Off By a Single Degree: Part II
by Taaroko
Summary: This is the sequel to "Off by a Single Degree." AU. Plotty ensemble fic with slow burn Damon/Elena and no love triangles. We continue the saga of Mystic Falls if Damon hadn't compelled Elena to forget meeting him and Grayson and Miranda had lived. (Definitely read Part I first; this thing has significantly veered off canon and you will be confused.) On hiatus.
1. Déjà Vu

If you're here looking for the February 27 update, skip to chapter three. Everyone else, welcome to part two of "Off by a Single Degree." Unless you haven't read part one at all, in which case, fly you fools! Spoilers lie ahead! And confusion.

* * *

Stefan didn't want to admit it, but underneath all the obnoxiousness, Damon might've been right not to want to leave him alone. He was feeling very twitchy. He simply wasn't used to having the kind of energy a generous diet of human blood granted him, and nothing he could do inside the confines of the boarding house could expend it. But if he went outside, he was sure it would only be a matter of seconds before he found himself dangerously close to humans. Even though human blood also granted him reckless levels of confidence and made it difficult to remember why using people for food was a bad thing, he was still just clear-headed enough to know that suffering cabin fever inside the boarding house was much better than whatever would happen if he went outside. So he poured himself enough of Damon's bourbon to give a grown human alcohol poisoning, then pulled out his phone.

It rang twice before someone answered. _"Hello?"_ The voice was male.

"Is this Lee?" said Stefan.

 _"Yeah, you want Lexi?"_

"Is she free?"

 _"She's right here."_

 _"Hey, Stefan!"_ said Lexi.

"You two sound like you're in a good mood," said Stefan, smiling.

 _"We've been touring Europe. We're in Venice! But don't worry, I'll be stateside again in time for your birthday."_

"I still don't get why you care so much about those."

 _"What's wrong with celebrating life? But anyway, what's up? It's been a while since you called."_

Stefan wasn't sure how much to tell her. He didn't want her to think she needed to come dashing back here in the middle of her trip, and he was certain that she would think exactly that no matter how he phrased his explanation of his current diet. "I've been back in Mystic Falls since May," he said. He hesitated, wincing a little. "So has Damon."

 _"Oh yeah?"_ said Lexi, her tone instantly ice cold.

"I know what you're thinking," said Stefan. "But he's...different. His humanity is back on, for real this time."

 _"Sure about that?"_

"He hasn't killed anyone since he came to town, and a few days ago, he saved one of the founding families from a werewolf attack."

 _"Wow,"_ she said. He could hear the frown in her voice, but her tone lacked the skepticism from before. _"What changed?"_

"I didn't get here until after it started, but it's because of a girl. Elena Gilbert. She's brought out a side of him I haven't seen since...since before we turned. He's my brother again, Lexi."

 _"Sounds like a pretty impressive girl."_

"She is. She's kind and brave and determined to see the best in people."

 _"Mm-hmm,"_ said Lexi rather pointedly.

"No! It's not like that," said Stefan, feeling his cheeks grow warm. "I mean, maybe it could've been if things were different, but she's in love with Damon, and he's in love with her too, he just can't admit it to himself." Because that would mean throwing away the last century and a half he'd spent living for the moment he'd get Katherine back. How strange was it that the one person who had done the most to repair the relationship between Stefan and his brother was identical to the person who had shattered it in the first place? Stefan could remember how little it had mattered to him that Damon loved Katherine. All he'd cared about was having her for himself. But now, even when he was flush with human blood and his self-control was hanging by a frayed thread, Stefan had no desire to come between Damon and Elena. It was like they were getting a do-over. That Damon couldn't see it was maddening.

 _"Okay, then, is there a girl you_ are _interested in?"_ said Lexi. Her teasing yet firm tone suggested they would be changing the subject from Damon whether he wanted to or not. _"Because I still really want to set you up with my friend Rose."_

"Well, there's definitely a girl who's interested in me," said Stefan.

 _"Ooh, is that so?"_

"Her name is Caroline. She's really pretty, I guess, but..."

 _"What, you don't like her?"_

"I don't know her well enough to answer that question. It's not that I don't think there's anything to like, but she's really pushy. And she doesn't know what I am."

 _"So tell her. If she handles it well, this might be something worth pursuing. If not, you can compel her to forget and leave you alone."_

"Her mother is the sheriff and a member of the anti-vampire council. I'm not sure that's a good idea."

 _"You can't date someone under false pretenses,"_ she said, gentle yet firm. _"I know you love pretending you're a normal human teenager, but you can't keep a secret like that from someone you want to be close to."_

"And if I decide I don't want to be close to her?"

 _"Then give her a human reason to leave you alone. If you don't like her, don't string her along. If you do, then do something about it."_

Before either he or Lexi could speak again, Stefan heard the sound of an engine outside, followed by the loud crunch of wheels against gravel. "I think Damon's home," he said. "I should go."

Lexi sighed. _"I hope you're right about him,"_ she said.

"So do I."

 _"And don't screw things up with this girl."_

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Stefan hung up just as the front door burst open, slammed shut again, and Damon came stalking into the parlor with the most murderous scowl on his face that Stefan had ever seen. His heart began to sink. Maybe he'd spoken his hopes to Lexi too soon. "Uh, are you okay?"

"No," said Damon. "But it's got nothing to do with you, so stay out of it." He headed straight for the drinks and rather than pouring himself some bourbon, he seized the bottle and downed half its contents in one go. "I would literally kill for some blood right now, but thanks to that asshole werewolf, this is going to have to do."

"What happened?" said Stefan, taking a cautious step closer.

Damon hurled one of the empty tumblers at the fireplace, where it shattered, then faced Stefan for the first time. "I told you to leave it the hell alone!" he snarled. Stefan hadn't jumped at the thrown tumbler, but he couldn't suppress a slight flinch at Damon's tone. He stood frozen in place as Damon stormed up the stairs with the rest of the bourbon. What had happened? Stefan heard Damon's door slam shut with the same force as the front door.

Fine. If he wasn't going to be able to get answers out of Damon, then he'd have to get them from somewhere else.

X

Jeremy pressed pause on his computer, slid his headphones off, and walked over to his window. Anna _had_ compelled him. Even though he knew now what they had really witnessed using her animal spies, he still couldn't actually remember it no matter how hard he concentrated. Mayor Lockwood had arranged for Tyler to unwittingly kill Coach Tanner, which meant that Tyler, like his father, was now a werewolf. Why had Anna refused to help Tyler? How could trusting Jeremy's family jeopardize her getting her mother back? Hadn't they proven they could get along with vampires and work towards a common goal?

Jeremy leaned his forehead against the glass, closed his eyes, and sighed. He liked Anna. Forcing him to sing that _Mulan_ song aside, they'd had a lot of fun together, and even though she was the oldest person he'd ever met, she didn't talk down to him because he was fourteen. And that thing she'd let slip about being in town to rescue her mom... He couldn't muster up any outrage over the compulsion. His plan had been to tell his parents about her if it turned out that she'd compelled him, but he'd been able to hear how afraid she was in the recording when she begged him not to get involved in the situation with the Mayor. She hadn't done anything to manipulate or use him, she'd just tried to protect herself so that she could do what she was here for. She clearly had some serious trust issues, but he was sure her intentions were good.

Still, it wasn't just about Anna and her mother. Tyler was a werewolf, and if Anna didn't want to do anything about that, it meant he had to. Resolve solidifying, he opened his eyes, then yelped and fell over in shock. Stefan Salvatore was standing on the window ledge, staring directly at him.

"What the hell, man?" said Jeremy, getting to his feet and opening the window. "Haven't you heard of texting?"

"Has Damon been here tonight?" said Stefan. He was somehow managing to look even graver than he usually did. "I wanted to ask Elena, but the curtains are drawn on her windows and it sounded like she was sleeping."

"Maybe," said Jeremy. "I've had my headphones on since I got home." He squinted at Stefan. The ledge wasn't very wide, and even though the window was open, his palms were still pressed flat against the air where the glass had been. So that was how an invitation barrier worked. This gave Jeremy an idea for how he could get back at Stefan for freaking him out. "You can come inside if you want," he said, smiling pleasantly. Whatever had been holding Stefan out vanished, and he promptly toppled into the room, landing in an ungraceful heap on Jeremy's floor. Within a split second, he was upright again and leveling a flat stare at Jeremy, whose smile had become a mischievous grin.

"So, why did you want to know if Damon's been here?" said Jeremy, hopping onto the end of his bed and sitting cross-legged.

"He came home furious about something and wouldn't tell me what that was about. I thought Elena might know."

Jeremy shrugged. "You should ask her in the morning."

"I probably will. Thanks." He turned back towards the window.

"Hey, before you go," said Jeremy.

Stefan paused and looked over his shoulder at him. "What?"

"Tyler Lockwood is a werewolf."

Stefan's expression turned to shock. "How?"

"I've been kinda spying on the Mayor ever since he attacked Dad," said Jeremy. "He got into a shouting match with Coach Tanner at the Grill yesterday because Tyler got kicked off the football team, and today he went to the school to try to convince Tanner to reverse his decision again. It went really bad for Tanner. Like, brain damage bad. Then the Mayor took him out into the woods at the old Lockwood estate and built a bonfire thing on top of him. He got Tyler out there, acting like he just wanted to go camping, and tricked him into lighting the fire. Tyler didn't know Coach Tanner was unconscious underneath the wood."

Stefan swore under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. "And I thought _my_ father was an abusive asshole." He looked intently at Jeremy. "Does the Mayor know you know any of this?"

"No," said Jeremy. "I mean, he might find the recording devices, but there's no way for him to trace them back to me." And that was technically true; the "recording devices" just happened to be Agents Foxtrot, Hawkeye, and Archi. Stefan didn't need to know that. "What are we going to do?"

"Do your parents know about Tyler or Coach Tanner?"

"Not yet," said Jeremy, trying to sound sheepish. "I didn't want to get grounded for taking risks with the spying."

"I can pretend I was the one who found out. You're sure about all of this?"

"If you want to double-check, you can go find what's left of the fire. I'm sure Mayor Lockwood moved the remains to a better hiding place, but you'd be able to smell if someone'd been fire-roasting a football coach, wouldn't you?"

"Definitely." Without further ado, Stefan took off back through the open window.

Jeremy flopped backward on his mattress and reached for his phone on his desk. He spent at least five minutes staring at it before finally pulling up Anna on his contacts list. _"Same time, same place tomorrow?"_ he typed. _"He's bound to do something suspicious soon, even if he didn't today."_

X

Friday, July 10

"So Liz'll be stopping by sometime today?" Grayson asked loudly over the sound of the shower.

Miranda turned the water off and quickly wrung out her hair. "At two-thirty," she said. She stepped out of the stall and grabbed her towel off the rack. "Will you be done with your appointments in time to make it?"

"Not if you keep giving me such a good reason to have Laura reschedule the morning ones," he said, pausing shaving so he could eye her reflection appreciatively in the mirror.

"Being responsible citizens can be so inconvenient sometimes," Miranda sighed, reluctantly wrapping the towel around herself. "And that reminds me. We got another reminder about the annual Whitmore alumni dinner tomorrow night. Are you sure you don't want to go?"

"I wouldn't feel good about going that far out of town before everything is settled with Richard."

"And you hate those parties," said Miranda, smirking. She grabbed a second towel to dry her face and arms before wrapping her hair in it.

"And I hate those parties," Grayson agreed. He paused the shaving again, now roughly at the halfway point, to look at her directly. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Still fine," she said. It was the same question he'd asked every morning for the last few weeks. "No cramping, no bleeding." They shared a glance that didn't need words. If they were right about the timeline, then it would only be a few more days before this pregnancy would have lasted longer than any of them since Jeremy. She still didn't dare let herself feel excited or optimistic.

"Let me know how your conversation goes with Elena," said Grayson, resuming shaving.

"Of course," said Miranda, taking the towel off her hair and grabbing her brush. "I've been bracing myself for the day we caught her sneaking a boy into her room. Is it weird that I'm less worried about the deadly vampire than I was about some of Jenna's finds?"

"Considering what he did for us Tuesday night, I would say no."

Half an hour later, Grayson had left for the clinic and Miranda was busy making bacon and eggs—one dish she usually managed to get right. Sometimes she got distracted and they ended up overcooked or burned. At 8:30, Jeremy was the first to be lured downstairs by the smell of the food. He was already dressed for the day and had his schoolbag slung over his shoulder.

"Good morning," said Miranda.

"Morning," he grunted. He heaped his plate with scrambled eggs and the crispiest strips of bacon and put two slices of bread in the toaster, then set to work attempting to break a world record for how quickly he could eat it all.

"Any plans for today?" she asked him, adding two more strips of bacon and another scoop of scrambled eggs to his plate.

"Going to the library again," he said, retrieving his toast and buttering it. "There are a few more folklore books I want to check."

"It's supposed to be pretty hot today," she said, pouring him a tall glass of orange juice. "I can pick you up if you don't want to ride your bike home."

"Thanks," he said. He reached for the orange juice, then paused. "Can you put vervain in that, or does it have to be in tea?"

"If you want little shreds of vervain leaf in your OJ..."

"It's already pulpy," he said, now assembling his toast and the second helping of bacon and eggs into a sandwich. "It'll be fine."

"Okay," said Miranda. She wouldn't pass up vervain tea even if it _wasn't_ protection against vampires. To each his own, apparently. She opened the spice cupboard. They had one jar of whole leaves and one of chopped leaves. The latter needed replenishing far less frequently. She poured a small pile of dried vervain leaf flakes into her hand and dumped them into Jeremy's OJ. He gave it a good stir and downed it in one go.

"Thanks, Mom. Breakfast was really good," he said, grabbing his backpack and the bacon and egg sandwich. "See you later."

"Don't forget to do the hand signals when you stop and turn," she said, handing him his bike helmet.

"I know, I know," he said, accepting the helmet with a grimace.

Miranda heard feet on the stairs again less than a minute after Jeremy left. "Is Jeremy gone already?" said Elena. She was still in her pajamas and sounded very groggy.

"Yeah," said Miranda. "He's going to the library."

"Again?"

"There's a pretty big section on local folklore. He's trying to see if they've got anything about werewolves."

"Still? That's what he was doing the last two days, too."

"I guess it's his way of coping with Vicki's death," said Miranda. She scooped up plates of bacon and eggs for both of them and sat on the stool next to Elena. "Any signs of life from Jenna's room?"

"Nope," said Elena.

They ate in a silence that was only comfortable because Elena didn't know what was coming when they were finished.

"So," said Miranda, taking her and Elena's empty plates over to the sink a few minutes later. "You had a guest last night."

She turned around to find Elena staring at her in confusion. "Someone came over last night? After I went to sleep?"

"Elena, you can stop pretending. Your father and I know Damon was in your room."

Elena only looked more confused. "What do you mean? Who's Damon?"

Miranda's eyebrows shot up. She stared at her daughter closely. Elena had never been a good liar. She always blushed guiltily and stumbled over her words. Those tells were completely absent now, and besides, feigning this level of ignorance wasn't even a lie that made sense. "Damon Salvatore," said Miranda. "Black hair, blue eyes, this tall." she held her hand up a few inches over her head. "You don't remember him?"

"Salvatore?" Elena repeated, frowning. "Is he related to Stefan and Zach?"

A feeling of dreadful suspicion washed over Miranda. "How did you get home from the bonfire in May?"

"I got a ride from someone," said Elena.

"Who?"

"I don't know," she said, shrugging. "Just some guy. Why are you asking me about that now?"

Again, Miranda ignored Elena's question. "How did you find out about vampires?"

"...You and Aunt Jenna told me. Mom, what's going on?"

"Why did we tell you?" said Miranda insistently.

"I don't know, you just did. I guess that was around when Stefan showed up."

"Why did you need a blood transfusion at your dad's clinic?"

"Because I...got hurt," said Elena.

"Who stopped Mayor Lockwood when he attacked us on Tuesday night?"

"Someone stopped him? I thought he just ran off after he got Dad."

Miranda suddenly realized that the kitchen smelled like smoke. She looked over at the stove. Smoke billowed from the frying pan, and the bacon and eggs that would have been Jenna's were almost completely black. She turned the stove off and brought the pan over to the garbage can to scrape out the contents into it, trying to keep the rising tide of fury she felt from showing on her face or in her movements.

"Mom?" said Elena. "Why did you ask me all that stuff?"

"No reason, sweetie," said Miranda. "Don't worry about it."

It looked like she had an errand to run.

X

Since Saturday, Liz had worked her way steadily through the list of Council members in her reopened investigation. The only ones left were the Lockwoods that morning, the Gilberts that afternoon, and the Salvatores tomorrow morning. She was keeping the idea of werewolves between herself and the Gilberts until she could confirm or deny it in a more substantial way than footprints in the woods, but the Council members she'd interviewed so far had been willing enough to let her examine their tire treads, compare their shoe sizes to the footprint mold, and take their fingerprints if they weren't already on file. They were less cooperative, however, when it came to the integrity of her investigation. They all seemed to think they were entitled to know everything she had learned just because they were on the Council with her, and many of them had snide little theories about who they believed to be a likely killer. She didn't have any matches for both foot size and tire tread yet, but she was so frustrated with all these people that she could scream. She did not expect the Lockwoods to make things any better.

The only other lead she had, the stone from the woods near where Vicki's body was found, was proving just as frustrating. She couldn't send it to Richmond for fingerprint analysis like she would in an ordinary case. It would be next to impossible to persuade a judge and jury that Vicki's killer had used the stone to frame vampires for the murder. No, the stone was only useful for proving to the _Council_ who the killer was, and that the killer had attempted to trick them. Which meant that she had to do the fingerprint analysis herself, without putting it in the database. It was excruciatingly slow, tedious work.

Her suspicion that the interview with the Lockwoods would not go well was confirmed before she even got to their door. Carol had assured her that the Mayor was aware of the scheduled interview and would be available, but his car was missing from the driveway when she pulled up. He evidently believed his status in the community meant that even the Sheriff had to operate on his timetables.

Liz gave the doorknocker three sharp raps. It took about five seconds for the door to open. "Liz, hi," said Carol in that haughty-yet-gracious tone that seemed to be her default speaking voice.

"Carol," said Liz.

"Come on in," said Carol, leading the way to the sitting room. Liz spotted Tyler lurking at the top of the stairs, but he quickly ducked out of sight again when she caught his eye. "You'll have to excuse Richard. The weeks before and after major holidays are always particularly busy for the mayor's office. That won't be a problem, will it? I'm sure it's only for appearances that you're investigating us, but I won't tell the rest of the Council if you won't." She touched Liz's arm and winked on this last sentence.

"This investigation is _not_ just for appearances," said Liz firmly. "I have to put every member of the Council under equal scrutiny, even Pastor Young, or my findings will be worthless. If the Mayor can't meet with me today, then I'll have to reschedule. I can't just skip him because of his position."

"But surely you can't suspect him of having anything to do with that girl's death?" said Carol incredulously.

"A week ago, I wouldn't have believed it possible that _anyone_ on the Council could have had anything to do with it. But the evidence doesn't lie. Only a Council member would have tried to make Vicki's death look like the work of a vampire. I have to rule us all out before I start looking for outside suspects."

Carol let out a sigh, as though Liz was being incredibly inconvenient. "I understand," she said. "What do you need from me?"

"Just fingerprints, shoe size, and tire treads," said Liz.

"Fine. And I'll let you borrow a pair of Richard's shoes until you can meet him for the other two. Is that everything?"

"It depends," said Liz. "Have you told Tyler about the Council and vampires yet?"

"No. We aren't planning on bringing him in on any of that until he turns eighteen."

Liz nodded. That meant she didn't need to take Tyler's fingerprints and shoe size as well. "Bill and I agreed on the same thing for Caroline."

Once she'd gotten what she needed from Carol and had been provided with one-third of what she needed from Richard, it was time to leave. Carol Lockwood wasn't someone she enjoyed making small talk with. She made up some excuse about sheriff department work that needed doing. Carol, who seemed equally impatient for the end of the visit, called for Tyler to show Liz out.

The boy came skulking over from the direction of his father's office, an old leather-bound book tucked under his arm. "Whatcha got there?" Liz asked as he led her back to the entrance hall.

"Some journal one of my ancestors wrote," he said. His tone was casual, but Liz couldn't help noticing that his hand shook slightly when he reached for the doorknob.

"Is everything okay, Tyler?"

"It's fine!" he said, far too quickly. He seemed to realize it, because he ran the hand not holding the journal through his hair and added, "I mean, besides that I got kicked off the football team."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," said Liz, though she didn't buy for a second that football was the only thing on his mind.

Tyler shrugged, eyes on the floor. "I kinda deserved it. Coach was being an ass—I mean a jerk to Matt about...about his sister, but I shouldn't have lost my temper."

Liz smiled. "Caroline told me what happened. It takes a big man to admit he's made a mistake and accept the consequences for it."

Tyler ducked his head, looking embarrassed. "Thanks," he said gruffly. He opened the door.

"Take care," said Liz, giving him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. But, walking back to her cruiser, she had a bad feeling about that conversation. She didn't think Tyler had done anything wrong—other than breaking William Tanner's nose, and the wrongness of that particular action might be up for debate—but something had him scared, and her gut told her it was something connected with the investigation.

X

Damon had spent the entire night drinking. He'd lost count of how many bottles he went through after about the fifth one, and lost his ability to count altogether not long after that. But no matter how much he drank, he still remembered exactly why he was drinking. Elena was never supposed to see any of that. Not the little boy with a father who beat him. Not the idiot soldier who killed civilians because he panicked. Not the pathetic sap watching the woman of his dreams dance the night away with his little brother instead of him. Not the weakling who couldn't resist blood when all he wanted was to die. Not the hands that shoved Stefan headlong into the longest ripper spiral of his life. Not the coward who left his best friend to die in flames.

He'd had the whole night to be furious with Elena for what she'd seen, but he was starting to lose momentum. She had no right! But she hadn't done it on purpose. She'd gone through that door on purpose! But it was his fault she'd run off and gotten lost in the first place. The look on her face when he'd told her he couldn't just abandon his plans for Katherine...she'd been just as hurt as he had when Katherine chose Stefan to escort her to the Founders' Ball. Maybe more.

Dammit, he was supposed to be too drunk for introspection. He raised the bottle to his lips again, but it was empty. He tossed it aside. Before he could reach for the next one, someone started pounding on the front door.

"Yougongethat?" Damon yelled, his words slurring together into a single sound. There was no answer. Very fuzzily, he remembered that he and Stefan were supposed to be out compelling people for tomorrow's blood drive at some point today. The little over-achiever had probably started without him. He tried to vamp-speed down to the door, but didn't stop in time at the end of the corridor, so he crashed into the railing and tumbled head-over-heels down into the parlor, landing flat on his face. He barely felt the impact; his body was probably 20% alcohol by now. Grayson would be fascinated to see how differently the stuff affected him compared to a human. He giggled a little at the thought.

Whoever had come to the boarding house was still hammering on the door. "I'm coming!" he snapped. He figured out how to move his limbs again and heaved himself to his feet. He finally reached the door and jerked it open. Miranda Gilbert was standing on the other side. When she saw him, her features contorted in rage and she swung at him with her fist. He was seeing double, and he must've tried to dodge the wrong image, because her punch caught him directly on the nose and sent him toppling backward into the entrance hall, where his head thunked loudly and painfully against the rug. It had a somewhat sobering effect, but nowhere near what he needed. Mostly it just hurt. He dimly recalled hangovers from when he was human. They'd been about like this. He made a mental note to get a softer rug for the entryway.

"What the hell did you do to Elena's memory?" Miranda demanded.

"I erased myself from it," Damon grumbled, rolling onto his side so he could push himself up, but Miranda wasn't done with him yet. She delivered an expertly aimed kick to his ribs. He felt two of them crack, and he tumbled over again, wheezing.

"Our agreement was for you to protect her, not fiddle with her head!"

Damon mustered all the strength and coordination he currently possessed to get back to his feet, only for her to deliver another punch to his face, sending him right back down. His vision was still blurry, but he could tell just from the feel of the punch that she was wearing brass knuckles of some kind. Fantastic.

X

Searching for the remains of Coach Tanner had been an excellent way for Stefan to burn off some of the extra energy from human blood. Plus it kept his mind off Damon's ominous behavior. And it gave him time to think about Lexi's advice. Did he actually like Caroline, or was the blood making him want to take advantage of her interest in him? The easiest way to figure that out would be to spend more time with her. Somewhere public, just to be safe. Once he figured out if he liked her or not, he could either tell her he wasn't interested or tell her what he was and see if _she_ was still interested in spite of it. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent her a text: _"Do you want to meet up at the Grill this afternoon?"_

He kept searching the grounds of the old Lockwood estate, not really expecting an immediate reply. He caught a whiff of smoke on the air and started moving in that direction when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out again and checked it. _"Absolutely! How about 3-ish?"_

 _"See you then,"_ he replied. Since Damon wasn't nearby, he didn't bother to suppress the slight spring in his step as he followed the smoke smell to its source, which happened to be right where the old mansion had stood. The Mayor had clearly made an effort to cover his tracks. It looked like he'd removed all the charred wood so that he could retrieve the body underneath. That would explain the soot and flakes of charcoal scattered several yards west of the fire. Then, it seemed like he'd put everything back and lit a second fire using fresh wood, just to make sure that anything touching the body was burned beyond any recognition. By human senses, at least. The area definitely still smelled like burning flesh to Stefan.

The actual remains weren't far away. The scent led Stefan to a patch of ground that moved when he stepped on it. Based on what he remembered of the mansion, he was now right on top of the old cellar. Richard must have covered the entrance in plywood and dirt to hide it. Stefan moved all that aside easily and descended the crumbling stone steps. What he found through the sturdy door at the bottom was revealing in several ways. A large cell with thick bars took up the back half of the cellar, and its stone walls were covered in claw marks. Richard, then, was not the first Lockwood to become a werewolf. The dirt floor had recently been disturbed in two places: the back corner of the cell and the middle of the front half of the cellar. The latter patch of floor was easily big enough to conceal a body. Stefan exited the cellar quickly and replaced the plywood and dirt.

As soon as everything looked the way it had when he found it, Stefan turned and ran full-speed towards home. Hopefully this information would be enough to get Damon off his bender—or at least give him something constructive to focus on. They would need to talk to the Gilberts about the best way to bring the Mayor's second murder to the attention of the Sheriff. And what to do about Tyler.

Stefan slowed down once he was within a quarter mile of the boarding house, thinking it would probably be better to slip back inside quietly. That was when he heard shouting, punctuated frequently by what sounded like hard objects colliding with flesh.

"She's _not_ even an _adult_! I guess it was _stupid_ of us to _expect_ you to respect the sanctity of her _mind_ just because she _trusts_ you!"

"What the hell, lady? Are those steel-toed boots too?"

It took Stefan about three more seconds to reach the open front door after that, where he found Miranda Gilbert whaling on his brother, who was struggling to get off the floor. Stefan thought back to the day Dr. Gilbert had shot him with a crossbow. Even though Mrs. Gilbert was fully nine inches shorter than her husband and had a fairly petite build, she was clearly the scarier of the two.

"What's going on here?" he said while Damon groaned pathetically on the floor.

Mrs. Gilbert rounded on Stefan. He took an involuntary step back at the ferocious look on her face. "Ask. Him," she said through clenched teeth. Then, without another word, she stalked past Stefan (who quickly got out of her way) and left the boarding house.

"What was she talking about?" said Stefan, turning to face his brother.

"I compelled Elena to forget ever meeting me," said Damon.

In the second it took Stefan to process what Damon had just said, it was like everything he'd ever wanted was ripped away from him all at once. He saw red, and his body seemed to move of its own accord. He let out a roar and lunged at Damon, seized him by the throat, heaved him up until his feet could no longer touch the floor, and hurled him with all of his strength. He crashed directly _through_ the intricate wooden doorframe around the entrance to the parlor, leaving it in splinters, and smacked into the huge mantelpiece at the other end of the room. Stefan caught up with him before he could slump to the ground and began pummeling every inch of him he could reach. If he'd done this while on his usual diet, Damon would've had the upper hand in a second, but right now, Stefan could feel bones breaking under his fists with every punch.

It was only after he had reduced Damon to a contorted mass of broken limbs, blood, and bruises that Stefan was able to get his rage under control and stop raining down blows.

"What are you so angry about?" Damon panted, grimacing as his body began to heal, bones cracking back into place one by one. "A month and a half ago, you wanted me to stay away from her. There were times I thought you might even be sweet on her. Well, now's your shot."

Stefan's anger started to flood back in, but instead of attacking again, he found himself laughing. "Are you blind? I don't want a shot with her! All I wanted was for you not to blow yours! Have you not noticed how much things have changed since we came back here? Your humanity is back on for the first time in decades. You haven't killed anyone in months—and don't tell me it's only because of Dr. Gilbert's deal, because I know that only applies to the citizens of Mystic Falls. Three days ago, you risked your life to protect the entire Gilbert family, not just Elena. She's the best thing that's ever happened to you and you just threw that away!"

"Well I'm bad for _her_!" Damon shouted. "Katherine and I deserve each other. We're both selfish monsters. The best someone like me can do for Elena is to keep monsters away from her, and she doesn't have to know me for that."

"Then what the hell have you been doing all summer? Was this your plan? You'd spend a few months tucking her away into your memories of past decades and then leave her without any memories of you?"

"No, that wasn't my plan!"

"Well that's what you did."

Damon looked like he was about to keep yelling, but Stefan's words seemed to have finally hit their mark. He slumped back against the wall, avoiding Stefan's gaze. "Her not knowing me is better than her hating me, and that's what would've happened after what she saw last night."

Stefan couldn't remain so furious in the face of the bitter hopelessness in Damon's voice. Before he could think of something to say, though, Damon doubled over in a fit of wracking coughs. Stefan rushed to his side and helped him straighten up again. They both looked at the blood in Damon's palm. His body had finished healing from Stefan's and Mrs. Gilbert's attacks; this was something else.

"The symptoms are back?" said Stefan.

"Looks like," said Damon, right before his knees buckled.

X

As soon as her mom left the house after that extremely weird line of questioning, Elena went straight back up to her room and retrieved her diary from its hiding place. She could remember all of the events her mom asked about, but the harder she thought about them, the less they made sense to her. And she still had no idea who Damon Salvatore was. She flipped back in her journal until she found the heading for Saturday, May 23, then started reading.

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Today was pretty crazy. I'm still trying to figure out what to do about Matt. Caroline says I just need to sleep with him and that'll fix everything, and Bonnie says I need to tell him that I don't feel the same way he does._

Feeling impatient, Elena skipped down a couple of paragraphs until she got to the end of the bonfire.

 _So after pretty much making a huge scene with the fight, I ditched the party. I tried to call Mom for a ride, but my phone was dead. And then I ran into this guy on the street. His name is Damon Salvatore, and he might just be the most beautiful man I've ever seen._

Elena frowned. She had no memory of writing this. She tried as hard as she could to picture the face of the guy who'd given her a ride home that night, but she got nothing. What was going on? She kept reading, determined to get to the bottom of this.

X

Grayson had barely finished his appointment with the third patient of the day when the Salvatores showed up at his clinic. Luckily, he'd finished the appointment early, so he had a few minutes to spare before the next one. "You're back two days earlier than my projections," he said, frowning. "Are you sure the symptoms have already started up again?"

Damon began coughing, and had to steady himself on the doorframe.

Grayson raised his eyebrows. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Apparently if he has to heal a lot, it comes back faster," said Stefan.

"Miranda called half an hour ago and told me she did a number on you—and why, but that shouldn't have been enough to—"

"It wasn't," said Damon.

"After Mrs. Gilbert left," said Stefan, "I might've...broken most of the bones she managed to leave intact." He looked rather sheepish about it.

"Oh," said Grayson. "Well, forcing his body to heal from something like that would definitely speed up the attack cells, but it shouldn't super-charge them the same way ingesting blood does. It could even make it easier to flush the rest of the them out faster. You might consider doing that on a regular basis."

"What?" said Damon indignantly. "I'm not allowed to drink blood and now you're prescribing regular beatings? How exactly have you never been sued for malpractice?"

"Well, this would be the first time one of my patients has altered my daughter's memories, so it hasn't really been an issue before," said Grayson. He felt that Miranda had expressed enough anger over Damon's actions for both of them, but that didn't mean he'd forgiven him. "Let's get the treatment set up." He stood and led the way to the lab. "I should have enough of the reconstituted blood Meredith brought, but that's all I've got until the blood drive tomorrow."

"We didn't just come here for the treatment, Dr. Gilbert," said Stefan.

"We didn't?" said Damon.

"Richard Lockwood killed someone else yesterday."

"What!?" said Grayson and Damon in unison.

Stefan went on to tell them about Richard's quarrel with Coach Tanner, and how he had carefully ensured that Tyler was the one to finish Tanner off. By the end of his explanation, Grayson's hands were shaking with anger, which made it slightly difficult to aim the needle he was sticking into Damon's arm. Grayson and Richard had always been enemies, but even though Richard had _killed_ him three days ago, he still wouldn't have believed the man capable of tricking his own son into becoming a monster.

"Damn, that almost makes me miss Dad," said Damon, scowling.

"Yeah," said Stefan.

Damon glanced up at Grayson. "Still want to use the law to take this guy down? I don't need to know how to kill werewolves; as soon as we're done here, I could cut his head off, rip his heart out—just keep pulling bits off until he stays down."

"Tempting, but no," said Grayson. "He's still the Mayor and the head of the Council. The town needs to believe he's a killer before we can deal with him as a werewolf without getting in a world of trouble for it."

"Well, as long as it's tempting," said Damon, scowl still in place.

"What about Tyler?" said Stefan.

"I don't know," said Grayson. "He's innocent, but we need to learn more about werewolves before we do anything. Ideally, we can get him to side against Richard. It might be useful to have a werewolf on our side."

"Our side?" said Damon. "Then you're not voting me off the island? That's fine, but I might have to take out a restraining order against Mama Bear."

Grayson closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. "Stefan, could you go up to my office and retrieve the spiral notebook on my desk?" he said once he was sure he could remain calm. "It has all my notes about Damon's procedure. Feel free to take your time."

"Yes, sir."

Once Stefan was out of the lab, Grayson fixed Damon with a very stern gaze. "Would you mind telling me what possessed you to erase Elena's memories?"

"What does it matter?" said Damon, not looking at him.

"She's my daughter. It matters a great deal."

"So you'd prefer her to be pining after a mass-murdering vampire over having a few holes in her memory?" Damon snapped.

"Neither," said Grayson. "But I can't control what she feels and you have no right to control what she thinks. If this was just your way of not having to disappoint her when you leave town—"

"It wasn't," said Damon shortly.

Grayson clenched his jaw. According to his watch, he needed to get back upstairs for his next appointment. "This conversation isn't over," he said, and moved towards the door. He met Stefan in the file room outside the lab. "You remember what to do?"

"Keep the saline going until the other line runs mostly clear, then switch it out with units of my blood," said Stefan. "Take samples to check under the microscope every hour or so. Let you know if anything unexpected happens."

"Good man," said Grayson. "I'm going to have to head home around 2:30 for the appointment Miranda, Jenna, and I have with the Sheriff. I'll come back down to see how things are going before I leave. Your lunch is in that freezer over there." He pointed towards the back of the room. "See if you can limit yourself to just the ones that say 'reconstituted whole blood' on them, okay? The red blood cell packets are for patient transfusions."

Stefan swallowed. "Yes, sir."

X

Jeremy had arrived at the library long before Anna this time, and he was sitting in the same spot in the Young Adult section when she found him. "So," she said, plopping into the opposite chair, "ready for round two of surveillance?"

If he hadn't listened to the recording, he probably wouldn't have picked up on the signs of her nervousness. Her voice had a hint of shrillness to it, and she was tugging at the necklace she wore, not looking directly at him.

He sighed, deciding to cut directly to the chase. "I'm on vervain again."

Her eyes snapped to his and she jumped to her feet faster than he could blink. "What?"

He stood up too, hands in his pockets. "I know you compelled me." He said it calmly, without malice.

She seemed to shrink as his words sank in. "How?" she said, looking down.

"I had a recording device on me."

"Smart," she said. "How come you're not mad at me?"

"Because I think I get it," he said, shrugging. "Your mom's one of the vampires in that tomb my parents are helping the Salvatores open, isn't she? You've been waiting a century and a half to get her back, and you don't want to take even the tiniest risk now that you're this close."

"Well I guess I've blown it anyway, because you weren't supposed to find out about that either." She sounded like she might cry.

"Why not?" said Jeremy. "Did you think I'd be _less_ likely to side with you if I knew you were trying to rescue your mom? Because that sounds like a pretty good goal to have. She's not a psycho or anything, is she?"

"No!" said Anna. "She's good. She did what she had to do to keep the two of us safe, but all she ever wanted was for us to be a part of a normal community. She could've used compulsion to have anything she wanted, but instead she ran a freaking apothecary in small town Virginia!" A couple of tears leaked out then, and she brushed them away impatiently. "Everything was going great for us until the Lockwoods started all the hysteria over vampires to cover their own asses. It might still have worked out, if not for Johnathan Gilbert. Mama was in love with him, and even though he returned her feelings, I watched him vervain her, strap a muzzle on her face, and drag her away without hesitation when he found out what she was. And then he had the nerve to claim our shop as his own property. It's the building your dad uses as his doctor's office now."

"So you didn't want to trust me because I'm a Gilbert, and you didn't want to help Tyler because he's a Lockwood," said Jeremy. He was definitely starting to feel a little angry now. "We're not our ancestors, Anna."

"You're lecturing me about trust when you brought a recording device yesterday?"

"Considering that you did actually violate my trust, you don't really have the right to get mad at me for taking precautions against that possibility. Besides, I wanted you to prove me wrong."

"I guess you've already told your family about me, then."

"Nope," said Jeremy, folding his arms across his chest. "All I did was give Stefan a heads up about what the Mayor did to Tyler and Coach Tanner."

Anna looked up at him, gaze flicking from one eye to the other. She gave a smile that looked more like a grimace and shook her head. "The reason I invited you here to spy on the Mayor with me was that I wanted you off the vervain so I could compel you into spying on your family for me."

"How come you didn't?"

"I couldn't do it." She tossed her head back with a bitter chuckle. "I've spent _a century and a half_ planning and preparing to get my mother back, and less than a week after I meet you—a descendant of the man who got us into this mess in the first place—I already like you too much to use you like that."

Jeremy gave a bitter smile of his own, his insides twisting unpleasantly. "Even though it's been less than two weeks since the girl I've liked for years was killed and I feel like I'm betraying her for this..." He met Anna's eyes and forced himself to finish the sentence. "...I like you too."

She stared at him. She looked incredibly vulnerable, like a regular teenage kid. But her eyes looked so _tired_. He could almost see all those years she'd spent alone, missing her mom. He took a step forward and pulled her into his arms. She made a little squeaking noise at first, her posture rigid, but then gradually melted into the embrace until she was hugging him back so tightly it almost hurt. All the disappointment and anger he'd been feeling gave way to a mixture of happiness and fierce determination. He _would_ help her.

"You don't have to do everything alone, Anna," he said, pressing his cheek into her dark, silky hair. "I might not be my ancestor, but I can fix his mistakes."

"How?" she asked, pulling away enough to look at his face.

"Let me tell my parents about you and your mom," he said. When she inhaled sharply and started to take a step back, he held onto her shoulders. "They're already helping the Salvatores, but I think you have a better reason to want the tomb open than Damon. They'll hear you out. Especially if you offer to tell them what you know about werewolves, because I haven't shared that with them yet."

She bit her lip, her hands resting on his arms just below his wrists. "How do I know this won't turn out like it did in 1865?"

Happy feelings increasing, he gave her a lopsided grin. "Because I wasn't around back then."

X

Elena climbed out of her car and looked up at the Salvatore boarding house. According to her diary, she'd been here many times since May. According to her memories, she'd only been a couple times, but she didn't even know why she'd come. On the first occasion, she'd nearly been strangled by Stefan, who thought she was Katherine. Apparently Damon had been the one who saved her. The other time, she'd shown Stefan a letter his mother had written, but she couldn't even remember what the letter had been about, and again had to rely on her diary to fill in the blanks.

She went up to the door, then hesitated. She didn't know why she felt so nervous. She should be marching straight inside and demanding to see Damon so he could fix her memories. Unless it was Stefan who had erased her memories. She didn't think he would do that, but he had tried to compel her once before. She had no way of knowing without more information. Maybe she was nervous because the missing memories felt more like a story about someone else's life, and marching in and making demands would be like intruding where she hadn't been invited.

She'd read every entry in her diary and every text in her phone, but it was like it was all just beyond her grasp. Assuming it _had_ been Damon, why had he done it? Their text conversations were full of playful banter and the journal entries recounting all the dreams of different decades sounded nothing short of magical. Most startling had been the entries about letting him drink her blood, and how much she'd liked it the second time. She had clearly trusted him deeply, so how could he do this to her?

Mustering her courage, she knocked. And waited. No one answered. Well, Stefan and Damon were both vampires, so if they were home, they would've heard her. So she tried the knob. It turned. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The first thing she noticed was the shattered frame on the wide doorway to the parlor.

Before she could investigate more closely, there was a loud cawing noise behind her. She jumped and spun around. A large raven was perching on the open door. "Shoo!" she said, waving her hand at it. It turned its head to stare at her and croaked in a way that suggested she had mortally offended it. She paused. Something else from her diary clicked into place. "Are you Edgar?" she said hesitantly.

The raven gave a much happier-sounding croak, then fluttered down towards her. She flinched, but he landed very gently on her shoulder, where he ruffled his feathers and gave off an air of utter contentment. She smiled and reached up to stroke the feathery beard beneath his beak. "I'm sorry I don't remember you," she said. "If it's Damon's fault, you should peck him on the head a few times for me, okay?"

Edgar croaked very seriously. Her phone buzzed then, making her jump again, almost hard enough to dislodge Edgar, which made him squawk and flutter his wings in alarm. She stroked him some more to help him settle down, then checked her phone. It was a text from Caroline.

 _"Second date happening this afternoon! I hope you've got $50 on hand, because you are definitely losing this bet. :P"_

"Bet?" said Elena. "This memory loss thing is getting seriously annoying, Edgar." He bobbed his head. "Want to help me try and jog it?" He gave an enthusiastic croak. She turned back around to face the interior of the boarding house, feeling heartened.

X

Stefan was about to switch the third unit of his blood onto Damon's PIC line when his phone buzzed. He finished what he was doing, then checked it. Another text from Caroline. _"It's 3:07. Where are you?"_

"Crap!" he said. After everything that had happened today, he'd completely forgotten about his plans to meet her. _"Sorry,"_ he wrote back. _"I'll be there in a few minutes."_ He was pretty sure the third unit of blood was the one when Damon had regained consciousness the last two times, so it would probably be fine if Stefan left. He grabbed a Post-It and scribbled a hasty note for Damon, which he stuck to Damon's shirt. He made sure the cooler containing the remaining units of blood he'd drawn from his arm was within easy reach of the exam table, then left the lab.

On his way out, the freezer at the back of the files room caught his eye, but he resolutely turned his head to look at the stairs. He'd succeeded, with difficulty, in leaving the units of red blood cells behind like Dr. Gilbert asked. He wasn't going to slip up now.

There were a few people at the Grill—not enough to overwhelm him with the number of beating hearts, but enough that there were plenty of witnesses. He found Caroline chalking up a pool cue, the balls set up for a game. When she saw him, she beamed. "Hey there!" she said, trotting up to him, grabbing his hand, and tugging him over to the pool table. "You had me worried for a minute."

"I'm sorry about that. Damon's still sick, and he's not being a very fun patient."

"But you guys live at that amazing vintage boarding house, so can't you just have the maid take care of him, or take him to the hospital?"

"He hates hospitals, and the maid quit a couple months ago."

"Really? The two of you have been keeping it that spotless this whole time?"

"I barely need to do any of it, actually. Damon's a neat-freak."

"Oh? Well then how do you spend most of your time?" she asked, handing him a pool cue, then moving over to make the opening break shot.

"I read," said Stefan. "I go hunting. I've traveled a lot."

"Where? I've been to Florida, California, and France on trips with my dad."

"Let's see," said Stefan, aiming the cue ball at a solid near a corner pocket and making his shot. It went in. He tried to figure out a realistic amount of traveling a seventeen-year-old could have accomplished. "I've been to all fifty states, a few countries in Europe...Canada, and Mexico."

"Wow," said Caroline, eyes wide. "What was your favorite?"

"Italy," said Stefan, making his second shot (which he deliberately missed). "Hands down."

"What's it like?"

"It's amazing," said Stefan. "Tuscan villas, Venetian gondolas, open air markets, cobblestone streets, Renaissance paintings and sculptures, and thousands of years of history." She looked completely enraptured by his words. He smiled. "What did you like about France?"

X

Hoping to avoid his dad for as long as possible, Tyler had taken George Lockwood's journal with him to the Grill shortly after Sheriff Forbes left his house. His dad had been freaking scary lately, and he didn't want him to know that he was actually doing the reading assignment he'd given him. He'd found the shadowiest booth, ordered bottomless fries, and read for hours straight. The old-fashioned cursive script became easier to decipher the longer he read, and the words more and more unnerving. It couldn't be true, could it? Werewolves didn't exist. And yet what he'd felt the day before when he was in that creepy-ass cellar...it was exactly like George's description. And he'd seen those claw marks with his own eyes. And even though he'd been in a completely different part of the house from his mom and the Sheriff, he'd been able to hear every word they spoke as clearly as if they were right next to him. Which still didn't help him understand why they would've mentioned vampires while talking about Vicki's death.

The most unsettling part of the entire journal was what George had written about _how_ he became a werewolf. It happened after he killed his first Union soldier in the war, and George was sure the man's death had been the trigger. Vicki was dead, and Tyler had very strong suspicions about how that had happened. If he was right, then his dad was a werewolf. But what about him? He hadn't killed anyone. He remembered the way that campfire had smelled yesterday and suddenly felt like he might be sick. His dad had really wanted him to light that fire.

No way. It couldn't be true.

He was pulled from his increasingly horrifying reverie by a familiar voice. He glanced up for the first time in a while. The restaurant was far emptier than it had been when he'd arrived, but he saw Caroline Forbes and that new guy over at the pool table. It was the guy's voice that had caught his attention. Why, though? He remembered him from the 4th of July party, but they hadn't spoken. He squinted, trying to figure out what bothered him so much about the dude. Suddenly, an image flashed across his mind. It was the new guy's face, inches away from Tyler's. The whites of his eyes turned red, with dark veins writhing up his cheeks and eyelids, and his teeth went long and sharp. _"I'm a vampire,"_ he said. _"And it's been a long time since I killed a human, but I used to be_ very _good at it, so if you don't tell me what I want to know..."_

"What the hell was that?" Tyler muttered. There was no way that had been real. First werewolves, now vampires? Had his mom and the Sheriff been talking about _actual_ vampires? He glanced at the new guy again, and his stomach twisted. He was looking directly at him, eyes narrowed. But maybe Tyler had imagined that too, because the next second, Caroline had stood on her tiptoes to whisper in the guy's ear. He grinned, and then she pulled him towards the short corridor that led to the bathrooms.

Tyler dropped some money on his table and left the Grill. He needed to go for a long drive or a hike or something.

X

"Why, Mr. Salvatore, I'm surprised at you," said Caroline breathlessly.

"Why's that?" said Stefan, though he was much more interested in kissing his way down her neck—and maybe having a nibble at that vein pulsing there so alluringly—than he was in talking right now.

"Elena told me I needed to go slow because you're the old-fashioned gentleman type. This is so much more fun."

Stefan froze, his mind clearing. This was the blood, not him. Their conversation had been going really well, and then she'd straight-up asked him if he wanted to go somewhere quieter and make out. All he'd been able to focus on when she said it was the sound of her heartbeat and the scent of her blood, and the next thing he knew, they were all over each other right next to the ladies' room door. He had to stay in control. He pulled away from her.

"What's wrong?" she said, pouting.

"Look, Caroline, I...uh," he began awkwardly. When he saw her face fall, plainly anticipating a rejection, he blurted out, "I think I like you."

She looked nonplussed. "You _think_? Gee, thanks."

"I didn't mean it like—" Stefan cut himself off with a grimace, remembering his conversation with Lexi. "What I mean is, you're beautiful and you're like a force of nature in the way you tackle projects and go after what you want, but I want to take a little more time getting to know you before anything happens here."

"Oh," she said, a surprised little smile spreading over her face. She really was beautiful. "Um. I can do that."

"There are also some things you should know about me, and if you change your mind about dating me, I won't blame you."

"What, you don't have herpes or something do you?" said Caroline, making a face.

"No!" said Stefan. "It's not a disease, I promise. Can we meet tomorrow, somewhere we won't be overheard?"

"Ooh," she said, her blue eyes flashing with curiosity. "How mysterious."

X

Elena was about ready to cry with frustration by the time she got back home. She'd wandered all through the boarding house, matching rooms to scenes from her diary. The memories still wouldn't come back. She managed to slip upstairs to her room unnoticed because her parents and aunt were all in the living room, talking to Sheriff Forbes. On any other day, she would've been very keen to hear their discussion, but she was a bit preoccupied today.

She was not going to give up. That much she'd decided. But she no longer felt that the best approach was confronting Damon and demanding he fix her memories. He was still essentially a stranger to her, and the diary entries obviously didn't come close enough to the present to tell her why he would've done something like that. No, she had a plan. If it worked, her memory would be fully intact very soon. She poked her head into Jeremy's room through the bathroom. He wasn't back from the library yet. Still, she locked both doors to her room and made sure her windows were closed with the blinds and curtains drawn. Then she pulled out her phone and called Bonnie.

X

When Damon regained consciousness after his third "comprehensive blood replacement therapy" session, he found himself alone in Grayson's lab with a Post-It note stuck to his shirt. He pulled it off and squinted at it. Getting his blood drained and replaced with Stefan's alcohol-free blood had left him completely sober, but he still felt cold and tingly—not to mention extremely hungry. He found out why after he read the note.

 _Damon,_

 _Something came up, so I had to leave early. All you have to do to finish up is swap out the rest of the units of my blood from the blue cooler onto the other end of your PIC line._

 _–Stefan_

"'Something came up,'" Damon repeated mockingly. "Something with blonde hair and a cheerleading uniform." He found the blue cooler right next to the exam table and set about swapping a new one onto his PIC line, which was difficult because his fingers barely had enough blood in them to move yet.

The process was incredibly slow. He hadn't noticed the other two times because he'd had company. Still, he had to admit that Grayson's cure for incurable werewolf toxin was pretty brilliant. As creepy as it was to be turned into an inanimate water balloon on a regular basis, he could tell that it was working. Each time, it kept his symptoms at bay twice as long (or, at least, it had been on track for that until Miranda and Stefan beat the tar out of him), and every time they came back, it was with less intensity than before. Grayson had been keeping meticulous notes of everything that happened, and by his estimation, Damon wouldn't need the full treatment again for nearly a week. In the meantime, he and Stefan just needed to come in every day so Damon could get a couple of units of Stefan's blood transfused into him to keep his levels normal. After the blood drive tomorrow, they'd have a big enough blood supply on hand to carry them through until he was fully cured.

But still, the longer the treatment went on, the more aggravating it was that he wasn't allowed to drink any blood for himself, especially now. Stefan was apparently staying well fed enough for the both of them, and Damon didn't _feel_ as though he hadn't fed in four days, but his fangs ached for something to sink into.

He decided he could stick it to Grayson for that mandate by making him regret giving him free reign of the drinks machine, so he wandered upstairs to the break room, where he bought a V-8. At least it was close to the same color as what he wanted to drink, and it claimed to be a great source of iron. He grabbed a Post-It off the pad on the counter and wrote "Damon's drink tab" across the top, then "V-8: $1.25" below that. Next to this, he drew one tally mark. He was about to stick the note to the glass front of the drinks machine when he noticed something in the reflection. A diploma in a frame.

He turned around to look at the diploma hanging on the wall next to the door, and his insides seemed to turn back into cold saltwater. Across the top in fancy script with gold leafing was the name of the university from which Grayson Gilbert had earned his medical degree. Whitmore College. In a single, horrifying instant, all the unsettling vibes he'd ever gotten from Grayson, not to mention from his freaking secret lab, suddenly coalesced into understanding. It would appear that he hadn't been as thorough at eradicating the Augustine Society as he'd thought.

He heard a car door open and close in the lot behind the clinic. It was Grayson coming back to do the post-procedure tests. Damon waited, listening closely. As soon as Grayson's footsteps reached what sounded like the patch of floor at the top of the stairs to the basement, Damon vamp-sped behind him and struck him across the back of the head. He tumbled all the way down the wooden stairs and landed sprawled at the bottom, unconscious.

Damon slowly descended the steps after him, keeping his eyes on him the whole way down. How many more Gilberts were going to betray his trust?

X

Grayson opened his eyes slowly. The back of his head was throbbing with such intense pain that nausea rolled through him, and the rest of his body ached. His surroundings gradually came into focus. He was in his lab. When he tried to move, he discovered that he was strapped tightly to the exam table. How the hell had he gotten here? He tried to think through the pain in his head. He remembered getting back to the clinic after the meeting with Liz about the investigation, and then nothing.

"Is somebody out there?" he called loudly.

The lab door suddenly opened with an ominous metallic squeal, and Damon walked inside, his gaze locking with Grayson's. His expression was ice-cold, and he gave off an aura of barely concealed fury.

Grayson held Damon's gaze. "Want to tell me why I'm tied up in my own lab?" he asked.

Damon didn't answer. He simply reached out and set something on the stainless steel tray on the cart next to the exam table. Grayson's stomach contracted. It was the Gilbert ring. His eyes darted to his right hand. The ring was gone from his finger. The first stirrings of fear swirled up in his guts. He swallowed, trying to get it under control, and looked back up at Damon. "Is my family safe?" he said.

"I'm guessing they're at home, getting ready for dinner," said Damon. " _They_ aren't the ones I need to have a chat with, and no matter how this conversation ends, I swear no harm will come to them."

"If you wanted to talk to me about something, why couldn't you just ask me about it during one of the blood replacement sessions?"

"I wasn't aware of the problem until a few minutes ago," said Damon. "And it's not something I want to discuss with my brother in earshot, especially not while I'm lying incapacitated on an exam table exactly like the one I was cut open on a thousand times." Damon's hands clenched into fists and he bared his teeth as he reached the end of this sentence.

Grayson's eyes widened. "How did you find out?" he said.

"You weren't as sneaky as you thought," said Damon. "A Whitmore diploma on your wall and a secret lab custom equipped for holding and experimenting on vampires?" he gestured at their surroundings. "One plus one equals...Augustine."

"Are you going to kill me like you've killed most of the Whitmore family?" said Grayson.

"I might," Damon growled. "But seeing as you're the reason I'm not currently dead of a werewolf bite, I'm willing to hear you out before I make my decision. You're going to tell me _everything_."

* * *

Yep. More cliffhangers. :) Tyler is starting to figure stuff out, Jeremy is about to try inducting Anna into Team Gilbert/Salvatore, Elena has a plan to get her memories back that involves Bonnie somehow, blood-crazy Stefan and boy-crazy Caroline are planning an ill-advised secluded meet-up so that Stefan can tell her what he is, and the big one: Damon might kill Grayson permanently if he doesn't give him an extremely good reason not to. Fun! Okay, non-cliffhanger stuff about the chapter. Lexi! Seemed like a good time to get her involved, even if only from a distance. No, she absolutely would not have given Stefan that kind of dating advice had she known he was freshly on human blood. Whoops. More Miranda! One of my two original purposes in writing this fic was to explore how Grayson and Miranda Gilbert not dying would impact the story, but I've been spending way more time on Grayson than Miranda (because I freaking love him and him being a doctor makes it easier to include him in the story more). Miranda deserves love too, so I decided to let her demonstrate exactly what she meant several chapters ago when she told Elena that she's always been better at melee combat than Grayson. Bahaha. Poor Damon (but he kinda deserved it). Also, I'm happier with the title of this chapter than I expected to be, because there's not just one character experiencing memory weirdness, there are three! Elena, Jeremy, and Tyler. Boom!


	2. Generation X

Here we are! The longest update ever, less than a month after the last one! (I wouldn't consider it a pattern just yet. If I can pull this off again in February, though, we might be at that point.) Also, please know that guilt-trippy reviews demanding faster updates are extremely counterproductive. I do feel bad about not updating quickly, but reviews like that make me feel like fanfiction is a chore, rather than an awesome fun project to work on. So if you want faster updates, the reviews most likely to inspire them are thoughtful ones pointing out what you like about the new chapter and what you hope to see more of. (Which is not to say that I don't also welcome constructive criticism, because there are always ways a writer can improve her craft.)

So, this chapter is very different than all the previous chapters. Where we left off, Damon had Grayson tied up in his creepy basement lab sans the Gilbert ring, and he was demanding that Grayson tell him _everything_. If Damon doesn't like what he hears, he might kill him. This chapter is Grayson's story. The italics sections are pieces of what he's actually saying to Damon, and the regular text sections are flashbacks to the more significant moments. I hope you guys enjoy this one, because I'm really happy with it. I worked hard to make sure it tied together as much of the backstory we know about (or was only implied) in canon, while also giving more context for why the characters (particularly Grayson) are the way they are in the present.

* * *

 _My parents, Daniel Gilbert and Emma Robinson, were both fourth-generation Founders Council members. Johnathan Gilbert's journals were my bedtime stories as a kid, and I learned them well enough to be the one to tell them to my brother. I was everything my parents and my town expected me to be. High school quarterback. Class president. Straight-A student. Hell, I was even an Eagle Scout. My parents were proud and my brother hero-worshipped me. With all my parents taught me about vampires and all I read about local history, I felt like it was my duty and honor to defend Mystic Falls from the supernatural, and I was determined to do it right._

 _I had no reason to question any of that until my third year of college. Because I was attending Whitmore, pre-med, and from a founding family, I was recommended for the Augustine Society by Professor Tobias Fell. He's retired from teaching now and heads the historical society here, but he was at Whitmore for thirty years._

X

January 1987

"I thought the Medical Anatomy 402 lab was in the Stearns building," said Grayson.

"It is," said Tobias, leading the way down to the basement of Whitmore House. "But you're in a unique position to get a little more out of those credits than your classmates. They'll only be able to work with dead tissue, but it seems to me that practicing on something more lifelike would be far more beneficial and instructive for an aspiring doctor."

"I suppose," said Grayson slowly. He'd only been to one meeting with the Augustine Society so far, and he still wasn't sure how he felt about the organization. The Founders' Council had the entirely sensible policy of working together to keep vampires out of Mystic Falls or staking them if they showed up—even if they weren't always effective—but the Augustines played a far more brutal and underhanded game, and Grayson wasn't convinced it was a necessary one.

X

Grayson was alone in the lab with a heavily vervain-sedated vampire, subject 12144, lying on the exam chair in front of him. The first unit in his class was the cardiovascular system. He followed the instructions in the textbook carefully, opening a Y-incision in the vampire's torso, then using the bone saw to open up the ribcage. His classmates in the actual cadaver lab probably had a much easier time—their specimens couldn't bleed.

He felt like Dr. Frankenstein, and he didn't like it. Vampires were monsters, but that didn't mean they should be subjected to vivisection and gruesome experimentation. He'd killed vampires before. Knocked them out with vervain, then dropped them with a stake or a crossbow bolt, just like his dad had taught him. Just like his ancestors had been doing for generations. That was what you were _supposed_ to do with monsters. This? This was wrong. He stared at the exposed beating heart in front of him. He picked up his scalpel. He would probably get in a lot of trouble with Tobias and the other Augustines for what he was about to do, but he was almost certain he didn't care.

"Do it," said 12144.

Grayson jumped slightly, nearly dropping the scalpel into the open chest cavity. This was the first time the vampire had spoken to him, and it was extremely unsettling to be addressed so calmly by someone whose ribcage he had just sawed into and spread open on an exam chair. "Do what?" said Grayson.

"I know what you're thinking," said the vampire. He spoke sluggishly due to the vervain, and he had an English accent. "You seem like an honorable chap...or perhaps a naïve one, and you clearly don't much care for the Augustine Society's idea of Medical Anatomy. As you can imagine, neither do I. There's no one here to see. All you have to do is sever the veins and arteries keeping my heart in place, and I'll be out of my misery forever."

"You _want_ me to kill you?" said Grayson. He would've expected an immortal creature to value his life above all else.

"I've been you people's lab rat for more than twice as long as you've been alive. Trust me; it got old a while ago."

Grayson was startled by the look in the vampire's eyes. His tone had been dryly sardonic, but his eyes were dull, full of resignation and despair. He'd never thought a vampire could feel emotions like that—or any human emotions at all, really. Maybe 12144 was faking. But what would be the point of faking emotions if his goal was death?

Grayson lowered the scalpel. "I don't want any part of this," he said, taking a step back from the chair.

The vampire's expression turned desperate. "Please! If you leave, I'll end up under the knife of another sadistic bastard who enjoys cutting my eyes out on a weekly basis. I know full well there was nothing educational about any of that, they just liked it."

Grayson felt sick. "I've killed vampires before. I followed the trails of dead bodies they were leaving behind them. Killing them felt right."

"So what's the problem?" said the vampire. "I don't seem monstrous enough for you to kill?" The skin under his eyes rippled and dark veins bulged to the surface, his sclera turned red, and his upper canines lengthened into fangs. "How about now?"

Grayson swallowed and approached the chair again. He raised the scalpel. The vampire's heart was beating much faster than before. The sight of it made the egg salad sandwich he'd had for lunch churn in his stomach. He set the scalpel down. "I'm sorry," he said. "I can't do it."

The vampire's features returned to normal. He looked bitterly disappointed, even as Grayson put his rib cage back in place. Within seconds, the cut from the saw resealed perfectly. The skin knit back together just as efficiently, not leaving so much as a scar. It was amazing how quickly they could heal. As someone who'd always wanted to be a doctor, Grayson couldn't help being mesmerized. The Augustine files he'd seen had indicated that vampire blood could also make a human heal from almost any wound in an instant.

"I'll think about it," said Grayson. The vampire said nothing. Grayson unhooked the vervain IV and watched the vampire awkwardly heave himself onto the gurney beside the exam chair. He wheeled the gurney out of the room and back down towards the cell. When they reached it, Grayson noticed for the first time that it was completely empty. An hour ago when he'd shot the vampire with a vervain dart and brought him to the lab, all he'd cared about was getting through this very morbid lab period as quickly as possible, but now that he was paying attention, he frowned.

Once he'd put the vampire in the cell and locked it, he went back to the lab where he'd left his backpack. He retrieved a rather battered copy of Terry Brooks's _The Sword of Shannara_ from it. He was only a quarter of the way through, but this was his third reread of the trilogy and he had the hardback version at home. He walked back down the hall to the cell. The vampire was sitting facing the wall, and he didn't look at Grayson as he approached. "I thought you might like having something to do until I come back tomorrow." He dropped the book into the cell between the square bars and left.

X

A week into the semester, Grayson still hadn't killed subject 12144. The cell now contained a battery-powered radio and a stack of books from Grayson's dorm room. All Grayson had done to the vampire was feed him his daily blood ration and bring him to the lab to draw samples of his own blood for testing. So far, the Augustines were none the wiser about any of this.

"You're going to fail your class if all you ever do is take blood samples," said 12144, flipping a page of _The Sword of Shannara_. "It's a cadaver dissection lab, not crypto-hematology."

"Then maybe they should've put me in the actual cadaver lab instead of giving me a live body to work on," said Grayson irritably.

"Look," said the vampire. "If you start failing your class, they're going to get suspicious and come find out what you've been doing down here—or, more to the point, what you've _not_ been doing down here. I don't want that, you don't want that. So if you're not going to kill me, it might be better for both our sakes if you simply follow your textbook."

Grayson stopped examining the slide under the microscope so that he could stare incredulously at the vampire. "Are you saying you _want_ me to cut you open?"

The vampire shrugged. "Better you than them. At least I can trust you not to inflict unnecessary pain, and if you use enough vervain, I'll barely feel it anyway. Besides, I've been dissected enough times that I probably know more about anatomy than your professors." He smirked at Grayson over the top of the book. "How many cadavers can double as lab partners?"

Grayson snorted, but the vampire had a point. He walked over to the chair the vampire was sitting in, hooked up to a vervain IV. "If we're going to be lab partners, then I don't think I can call you 12144. You have a name, don't you?"

The humor drained from the vampire's face, to be replaced by an extremely grave look. It struck Grayson that the vampire probably hadn't been permitted the dignity of being addressed by his own name for as long as he'd been a prisoner here. "Enzo," he said quietly. "My name is Enzo."

"I'm Grayson Gilbert," said Grayson, holding out his hand. After a second's hesitation, Enzo reached up and shook it.

X

 _Enzo hadn't been exaggerating when he said he knew more about anatomy than my professors. I was able to ace the midterm and final exam so well that I single-handedly destroyed the grading curve for the rest of Medical Anatomy 402. The Augustines were so satisfied with my research involving Enzo's blood that they encouraged me to continue it, even scrounging up a few research grants for me—all under legitimate-sounding names, of course. I stopped the dissections and went back to only taking blood samples. I brought Enzo more books and told him about all the world events he'd missed since the '40s, and he helped me study for the MCAT. Even though I'd been raised to be a vampire hunter, I found myself with a vampire for a friend._

 _I was hopeful back then that I'd be able to convince the other Augustines to release Enzo, but those hopes were soundly dashed. In the spring of 1990, when I only had one year left of medical school, Don Whitmore, the head of the Augustines and essentially owner of the college, got bored with my reports on vampire hematology. He wanted something else. I'd learned about the many violent deaths in the Whitmore family, and about the test subject who escaped in 1958. It occurred to me that maybe the reason so many of the people who'd worked on Enzo before me tended to treat him so badly was that Don was trying to get revenge the only way available to him. I wasn't about to abandon my personal ethics for someone else's misplaced vendetta, so Enzo and I came up with a plan that would appear to give Don what he wanted._

X

"She socked him right on the jaw?" said Enzo, smirking as he stepped through the open door of the cell.

"Yeah," said Grayson, his eyes misting over as he replayed the scene from the previous afternoon in his mind. For a few semesters now, Grayson had trusted Enzo enough to not bother with the vervain IV or other forms of restraint, only using them for show on the days when Don Whitmore or his new protégé Wesley Maxfield came by the lab. He had also increased his rations to well above the starvation level the Augustines had maintained him on for so long, which resulted in him being much healthier and more comfortable. "Lockwood did a staggering pirouette and crashed into a really expensive vase."

Enzo snickered. "Now there's an expression I've never seen on you before."

Grayson paused. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come off it. You're completely smitten and you know it."

"With Miranda Sommers?" said Grayson, startled. "She's still in high school! And I have a girlfriend." He resumed walking towards the lab at a brisk pace, but he could feel himself blushing.

"You've never been this excited about anything related to _any_ of the girlfriends you've had since we met, and haven't you cancelled two of the last five dates with what's-her-name? Camille?"

"Carmen. I didn't cancel, I had to reschedule because of schoolwork."

Enzo snorted and, having reached the lab, flopped onto the exam chair. "If you care about a girl, you make time for her. Clearly you don't care about Candace. But we're not talking about her, we're talking about Miss Sommers."

" _Carmen_ ," said Grayson, pulling a cart with a spirometer clearly labeled Whitmore College Medical Clinic towards the chair. He passed Enzo a nose clip from the cart. "Put this on your nose."

Enzo obliged. "Has she turned eighteen yet?" he asked, the clip making him sound like he had a horrible cold.

"Last month."

"Then there you are. What's more, you apparently know this girl's birthday, which is also a first. Ditch Carly and ask her to dinner. High school student or not, she's an adult and you're a highly eligible soon-to-be doctor."

Grayson scowled and handed Enzo the spirometer's mouthpiece. "Inhale and exhale as deeply as you can through this. I'm going to see how everything sounds." He raised his stethoscope, gesturing at Enzo's shirt. Enzo obligingly lifted the hem up to his shoulders while breathing through the spirometer. Grayson placed the stethoscope over Enzo's lower left ribs, then moved to different spots while the spirometer's needle scratched out a graph of Enzo's breath volume. Everywhere Grayson listened with the stethoscope, he could hear the tell-tale sounds of restricted breathing, and before looking at the ticker-tape results the spirometer was spitting out, he could see that Enzo wasn't able to expand his chest very far, even when he was trying to.

"Thanks. You can stop now," said Grayson, taking his stethoscope out of his ears and moving back around to the spirometer so he could remove the coil of paper from it. "You died of tuberculosis?"

"That's right," said Enzo, dropping the nose clip back on the cart and tossing the used mouthpiece into the medical waste bin a few feet away.

"That has to be a rare cause of death for a vampire," said Grayson. "Normally, vampire blood would just cure the disease." He looked down at the peaks and valleys of the graph. They were about what he had expected.

Enzo shrugged. "It was too late for that, I suppose." He eyed Grayson shrewdly. "Don't think I'm going to drop the subject of Miss Sommers forever, but I know that look. You're in mad scientist mode. What are you planning?"

"I think I've figured out a way that we can convince Don and Maxfield I'm still loyal to the Society that will actually benefit you."

"Oh?" said Enzo. Grayson moved the spirometer aside and pulled the pulse oximeter (brand new, and also borrowed from the clinic) forward, clipping the end to Enzo's finger. He watched the readings on the screen for a few seconds. They further substantiated his theory. "Well? Are you going to tell me what all this is about?"

"This," said Grayson, holding up the spirometry graph, "was a test of your lung volume. You're breathing at around 28% of normal vital capacity for healthy adult males your size. The pulse oximeter essentially confirmed that. In my research on the properties of vampire blood, I've found that it has no effect on scar tissue. Technically, you didn't die of tuberculosis, because the vampire blood you ingested cured that in an instant. What it _didn't_ cure was the pulmonary fibrosis that resulted from the disease. You still died because your lungs were so extensively scarred and full of fluid that you simply couldn't breathe anymore. You probably only lasted a few more hours with the vampire blood than you would've otherwise."

"Are you telling me that even after I became a vampire, my lungs stayed covered in scars?" said Enzo indignantly.

"Yep," said Grayson. "Your blood oxygen level is far too low to sustain human life. As a vampire, you're durable enough to function fairly well, but still at nowhere near the levels of other vampires. I can't be sure without another subject to compare against, but it's likely that your body has been producing far more red blood cells than usual in an attempt to compensate. There's still barely enough oxygen to go around, though."

"Lovely," said Enzo. "But what does any of this have to do with Don Whitmore or Wesley Maxfield?"

"I might be able to fix your lungs, but it's not going to be a very fun process," said Grayson. "Normally I would put you on enough vervain that you'd be out cold the whole time, but they want a horror show, and we don't have much choice but to give them one as long as you refuse to just leave."

Enzo growled. "We've been through this a hundred times, Grayson. If I leave on your watch after years of you stubbornly treating me more humanely than any Augustine ever has, they'll know you let me out voluntarily, and you'll be the one they punish. Why do you think I made Maggie forget her feelings for me? I've _watched_ them use my blood to turn insubordinate members into fresh vampire lab rats, and they were far more brutal to those subjects than they've ever been to me! And since you don't want me to just go out and kill all of them—"

"Even if I _didn't_ object to mass-murder on principle, it would cause an entirely new set of problems," said Grayson sharply. "If anyone has to die so you can get out of here, it should be me. I've told you what my ring does—"

"I can't believe you're still this naïve after four years with these people. You want me to kill you and flee, so that Don or one of the others will find your body and assume I overpowered you and broke out? Well what happens when you come back to life a few hours later? The only way to assure them you aren't halfway to becoming a vampire will be to explain what your ring does, and after that, I'd give it maybe a week before you're dead for good and the ring has mysteriously vanished."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" said Grayson. "Leave you to the mercy of Maxfield? He's slated to take over this lab once I'm back in Mystic Falls for my residency. That man is as cold as they come. I've looked into his research. He's written multiple articles arguing in favor of using prison inmates to test experimental surgical techniques in exchange for shortened sentences. That's what he wants to do to fellow humans. What do you think he'll do to you?"

"It makes no difference," said Enzo. "This is the trouble with joining a secret society. You're just as much of a prisoner as I am."

Grayson stared bleakly at his friend. He was right.

"Tell me how this procedure is supposed to work," said Enzo after a long moment. "How can you fix my lungs if scars don't heal even in vampires?"

"Pre-mortem scars don't heal," said Grayson, "but as you know far too well, vampires are so efficient at cellular regeneration that post-mortem scars never form. Theoretically, if I cut out your scarred pulmonary tissue in small enough pieces, healthy tissue would grow in its place, and eventually you'd have perfect lungs."

Enzo whistled. "That's absolutely brilliant."

"Actually, I'm surprised I'm the first one to think of it," said Grayson, frowning. "None of your previous 'surgeons' worked on your lungs?"

Enzo snorted. "You're forgetting that they, unlike you, possessed neither a sense of ethical responsibility nor the primary goal of medical inquiry. They punctured them every once in a while, but on the whole, they seemed to prefer operations that didn't interfere with my ability to scream in agony."

Grayson stared at him, a deep pit in his stomach. But then an idea struck him. "Maybe there is a way to get you out."

"I think I'll go back to my cell now," said Enzo, moving to hop down from the exam chair.

"No, listen," said Grayson, blocking his way. "You won't leave while I'm here? That's fine. But it doesn't mean I can't help you get out after Maxfield takes over. If we wait long enough, they'll never suspect I had anything to do with it."

X

 _Over the next few weeks, Don watched and Maxfield assisted as I carried out a series of invasive pulmonary regeneration procedures on Enzo while he was fully conscious and capable of feeling pain. The plan was a success on all counts. Don's vengeful sadism was satisfied, as was Maxfield's curiosity about vampire cellular regeneration, and Enzo came out of it with fully functional lungs. It was only a short-term solution where Don and Maxfield were concerned, of course, but they and the other Augustines have never questioned my loyalty since._

 _I asked Miranda out a few days after Enzo badgered me to. Her parents were a little hesitant because of the age difference, but we agreed not to become exclusive until after she graduated. Since I was at Whitmore, that wasn't too difficult, but those were still the longest three months of my life. The next four were the shortest. She was the one, and she felt the same way about me. Enzo was so smug. Miranda didn't want to be two hours away from me for my final year of med school, so we got married at the beginning of September and she moved to Whitmore with me, where she started as a history major._

 _At the end of Miranda's freshman year, I graduated from medical school and began my residency in Mystic Falls General. At first, we tried to find a place halfway between Mystic Falls and Whitmore so that she could continue school there without a long commute, but then her father died in a car crash, turning her life upside-down. She dropped out of Whitmore so that she could be closer to her mom and sister, intending to go back eventually. Meanwhile, Maxfield took over the lab. I secretly made copies of all the keys before I handed them off to him, but living in Mystic Falls again with a demanding residency schedule made it difficult to check in with Enzo and make escape plans. He said he understood, but I knew Maxfield was doing everything my predecessors had done and worse. I couldn't even express my disapproval without drawing attention to myself again._

 _Before I could complete the first year of my residency, my brother brought me another complication. He'd gotten his girlfriend pregnant. They were both seventeen, and she wanted to put the baby up for adoption. She was early in the second trimester when John told me about it. Neither John nor Isobel wanted the burden of parenthood at that age, but they did want the possibility of being in the baby's life later on. Miranda and I had been trying unsuccessfully to conceive for months. We'd started looking into adoption, but it's a ridiculously convoluted process. Less so, however, when the baby is your brother's, you have experience delivering babies, and your wife is happy to fake a pregnancy of her own for the last two trimesters. The only other people who knew we weren't the real parents were Miranda's mother and sister. My parents didn't even know, though to be honest, the real trick was keeping it a secret from Miranda's pregnant friends. Abby Bennett might've guessed, but Liz Forbes and Kelly Donovan never did._

 _Isobel had the baby. I'll never understand how she still wanted to give her away after looking into her little face. She was perfect. Miranda and I named her Elena, and we took her home. Isobel never came to see her. Now we had an infant daughter and I still had two years left in my residency. I kept telling myself I'd go back for Enzo once I had my license and my own practice._

 _1994 rolled around. That was the year things were supposed to level off, but instead, they exploded. In March, Miranda found out she was pregnant. On May 10_ _th_ _, the boarders at the Salvatore Boarding House were massacred by a vampire during a solar eclipse, including a pregnant woman. I managed to save the baby, but the Council still had eleven corpses on our hands. It was chaos. The whole town went on lockdown for months, we did sweeps with the vampire compass, and we put vervain in the water treatment plant so that it would come out of every faucet for miles, but we never found the vampire. It's pretty obvious now that it was either you or your brother, and you probably_ don't _want to tell me more about it._

 _I've gone over what happened next a million times in my head, and the best I can figure is that the massacre shone a spotlight on Mystic Falls, because if he'd found out about Elena any other way, it would never have been just him, and things would have gone even worse than they did._

X

August 1994

Grayson finally managed to leave Mystic Falls General after a straight twenty-two hour shift. This was his third month as a board-certified attending physician, and the work was just as exhausting as his residency had been—except without the safety net. He couldn't wait to open his family medicine clinic. His dad had sold him the building on Main Street that had housed his law office years ago before it expanded, and he and John were helping him renovate it to suit his purposes. The place had been in the family since the Civil War, and it was the perfect size for a small-town doctor's office.

Instead of going directly home, he headed for Main Street. It was around lunchtime; he'd probably find at least a few family members there. Miranda's mother and sister had been on vacation in Europe for a month and wouldn't be back until Jenna's school started, so Miranda and Elena had been spending more time than usual with Grayson's side of the family.

Sure enough, the whole clan was at the clinic when he arrived. Paint tools were scattered around the edges of the unfinished floor, and about half of the walls in what was going to be the reception area were shiny with a fresh coat of jade green paint. Emma and Miranda were sitting on folding chairs, apparently managing the work, while Daniel and John, dressed in denim overalls speckled green, ran rollers up and down the wall. Two-year-old Elena had a small paintbrush and was furiously working to cover her own little section of wall. She was the first one to notice his arrival.

"Daddy!" she squealed, dropping the paintbrush onto the floor and running to jump into his arms. She smacked a big kiss on his cheek, and he blew a raspberry on hers, which made her giggle and squirm.

"You're all covered in paint!" Grayson observed, booping her on her smudged nose.

"I'm helping Gampa an Unca John paint da walls!" she said, eyes wide.

"You're doing a very good job."

Daniel and John took Grayson's arrival as an opportunity to take a break from working, and Emma and Miranda stood up—Miranda slowly, a hand supporting her stomach. Emma brought him a paper bag of food, and Miranda brought him a kiss.

"How's it going?" said Grayson.

"One more day of painting," said Daniel. "The guys doing your floors should be coming the day after tomorrow. Then you'll get your fixtures and your AC and heating on Monday."

"We couldn't have done the AC first?" said John, wiping his forehead on the back of his hand.

"Daddyyyy! I gotta finish!" said Elena. Grayson let her down and she scampered back over to the corner with her paintbrush and set to work again, humming discordantly to herself.

There was a knocking sound, and the adults all turned to see an unfamiliar blond man who looked to be in his fifties standing there. "Pardon the intrusion," he said. He spoke in a very precise, upper-class English accent. "Would you be the Gilberts?"

"We would," said Daniel.

"Excellent," said the man. "Now I won't waste any of your time by beating about the bush. A Mr. Salvatore included your family on a list of people I should ask about the massacre at the beginning of the summer."

"Are you with the FBI or something?" said John, looking intrigued.

"Don't be stupid, he's British," said Grayson. "They're MI6." John scowled at him.

"Neither, actually," said the man. "My name is Mikael Norman. I'm a vampire hunter."

The Gilberts exchanged surprised glances. The man pulled a piece of folded paper from his inside jacket pocket, unfolded it, and held it up. It was a detailed sketch of a young man with curly hair. "I'm looking for this vampire in particular. His name is Niklaus, though he usually goes by Klaus. What happened in May could be his work, although if not, I will still gladly dispose of the vampire responsible."

Daniel took the sketch and looked more closely at it. "He doesn't look familiar. Have any of you seen him?"

"I don't think so," said Emma. Miranda, Grayson, and John all shook their heads.

"We haven't been able to find any trace of the vampire responsible," said Daniel. "We scoured the whole town multiple times. There haven't been any other suspicious deaths since, so we think he probably left right after he did it."

"Is there a way we can contact you if we do hear about someone named Klaus or see a man who looks like this?" asked Emma.

"Of course," said Mikael. "Could you lend me pen and paper?"

"Mommy, Daddy look! I drawed you on da wall!"

Grayson and Miranda turned to see Elena pointing at the section of wall she'd been painting. There were two squiggly circles on it with sticks coming out of them that might've been intended to indicate limbs. She'd gotten more of the paint on her clothes and arms, though.

"Great work, Elena!" said Miranda.

"Are you ready to go home and get cleaned up?" said Grayson.

"Okay!" she dropped the paintbrush on the floor again and ran to him. There was no way for him to pick her up this time without getting covered in paint, but he'd been a parent long enough that stains didn't really bother him anymore, and he was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt anyway. When he turned back to face Mikael and his parents, he found the vampire hunter staring with unnerving intensity at the toddler in his arms.

"I'm going to go get Elena buckled in," he said. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, just a minute," said Miranda.

Grayson gave Mikael a slightly wider berth than he usually would as he exited the building, clutching Elena tightly to him. Maybe he'd just been seeing things because his long shift at the hospital had left him exhausted, but he was unable to shake a sense of foreboding.

X

 _Less than a day passed before my fears were confirmed. I had to go on call again, but I convinced Miranda to stay inside the house with Elena until I got back. The vampire compass was still assembled, but it had been a couple of weeks since the last sweep. The Fells had it, and I was able to convince them to let me take it for a while, just to test a theory. It seemed like a long-shot; Mikael had walked right into the clinic in the middle of a sunny August day, after all, but I thought I'd check anyway._

X

It had been something of a struggle for Miranda to convince Elena to spend the day playing inside. She wanted to help her uncle and grandpa paint the clinic some more, she wanted to play with Matt and Bonnie, she wanted to dig a hole in the backyard. She was also much more agile than her seven-months-pregnant mom, and very skilled at opening doors despite the supposedly child-proof covers on all the knobs. _Beauty and the Beast_ didn't keep her nearly as spellbound as it usually did. Nor did play-dough, blocks, stuffed animals, or crayons. Never had Miranda been more relieved when naptime finally arrived. Bedtime with Elena was like World War III, but naptime was always easy. One second, she would be bursting with energy, the next, she'd be sprawled wherever she'd just been playing, fast asleep.

Barely a minute after Miranda covered Elena with a blanket where she'd conked out looking at one of her picture books on the couch, there was a knock on the door. Elena didn't stir, so, with slight difficulty, Miranda got up, headed for the foyer, and pulled the door open.

Mikael Norman was standing on the porch. "Good morning, Mrs. Gilbert," he said. "Might I come in?"

"My daughter's asleep on the living room couch; I don't want to risk waking her up," said Miranda, one hand on her sore back. She could definitely understand the creepy vibe Grayson had gotten off this man the previous day, but she was too exhausted to feel frightened. Mostly, she just felt cranky. She could've been settling down for a nap of her own if he hadn't shown up. Grayson had called half an hour ago to say that he'd probably be able to get away from the hospital soon; if the visitor could've waited until then, she wouldn't have had to deal with him at all. "Did you find something about that vampire you were looking for?"

"No, I'm not here about him," he said. There was an awkward pause in which Miranda did not step outside and Mikael made no move to step inside. Whatever politeness there was in his expression gradually vanished. He gave an irritated sigh, then fixed Miranda with the most piercing gaze anyone had ever given her. "You _will_ invite me into your home."

Miranda raised an eyebrow and folded her arms above her pregnant belly. "If you're this determined to come in, then what's so important about making me say it?"

His eyes narrowed, but he chuckled. "I thought there was a strong possibility you'd be on vervain, but it was worth a try."

"So you're a vampire who claims to be a vampire hunter," said Miranda. "How does that work?"

"Oh, I do hunt vampires. I am somewhat to blame for the species' existence, you see, so it's really the least that I can do."

"Well, there are no vampires inside my house. You might want to start hunting elsewhere."

"I'm not here about vampires. I'm here about your daughter. Elena, I think your husband said?"

For the first time, a sliver of fear pierced through Miranda's crankiness. "What could you possibly want with a two-year-old?"

"She's not just any two-year-old. She is a Petrova doppelgänger. She will attract chaos and destruction her whole life, like every doppelgänger before her. Your family, your town, your unborn child—you'll all be better off if you let me take her now. And not just because I will start killing all of them one by one if you don't hand her over."

"Have you ever had children, Mr. Norman?" said Miranda. His words should've had her trembling in terror, but instead they had filled her with a chillingly calm protective rage.

"I have."

"Then I'm sure you'll understand why there is no threat you can make that will persuade me to let you anywhere near my little girl."

Mikael chuckled darkly. "When I told you and your family about Niklaus, I neglected to mention that his surname is Mikaelson."

Miranda stared at him, appalled. "You're hunting your own son?"

"He murdered his mother, _my wife_ , and turned his siblings against me by framing me for her death. Since then, he has killed more humans than most dictators. You think I should show paternal affection to a wretch like that? I have scoured the Earth for my wayward child for a thousand years, and I _will_ kill him when I find him. I do not make a habit of murdering little children, but you _want_ me to be the one to do this, because if Niklaus discovers her, he will use her to make himself into a nigh-invincible abomination. I will be kind. I will kill her quickly. But Niklaus likes to play with his food, and the ritual he would use her for is a protracted and messy affair."

"Why should my daughter have to pay the price for your failure to track down your son?"

He snarled at her, vampiric features coming to the fore. It was the first time Miranda had seen them for herself. She did not flinch or retreat. Mikael opened his fanged mouth to reply, but then he jerked forward slightly, his eyes went glassy and unfocused, and then he fell to his knees and toppled sideways onto the wooden boards of the porch. A thin strip of wood with fletching on the end protruded from his back, and grayish veins were spreading out beneath his skin.

"Miranda!" shouted a familiar voice. Miranda looked up and saw Grayson running towards her, a crossbow in one hand, the vampire compass in the other. She leapt over the dead vampire and sprinted into his arms.

X

 _We thought that would be the end of it. Dad, John, and I spent the next couple of hours burying Mikael in the woods. We decided not to tell the rest of the Council about him because we didn't want them asking questions about Elena, but we did ask Sheila Bennett if she had any idea what a Petrova doppelgänger was. Miranda was still worried something might happen, and she kept Elena in the house with her._

 _Sheila told us she could do a spell to find out more about Mikael's intentions, but she'd need his body for that. We went back to the woods to retrieve him for her, only to find the grave empty. Judging by the way the dirt looked, he hadn't been dug up; he'd clawed his way back out of it. I know for a fact I shot him directly in the heart with my crossbow. Nothing like this had ever happened before. We were desperate to figure out a solution before Mikael could start making good on his threats._

X

"I've never heard of a vampire surviving something like that," said Sheila, very troubled. She and Abby had come to Grayson and Miranda's house, along with Grayson's parents and brother, to discuss what they should do. Courtesy of the Bennett matriarch, incense was burning on the coffee table in the middle of the room, so if Mikael was outside, he wouldn't be able to eavesdrop.

"It's not just that he survived," said Miranda. "He turned gray and he was covered in veins. That's what they look like when they die, isn't it? He somehow came _back_ from that."

"And you said he told you he was responsible for the existence of vampires?" said Sheila.

Miranda nodded.

John suddenly sat up straight. "There was something in Johnathan Gilbert's journals about that. Vampires older and harder to kill than any others?"

"You think Mikael is one of the original vampires?" said Grayson.

"It's the only thing that makes sense, isn't it?" said John. "He came back to life after having his heart pierced by wood, and he can't be responsible for vampires existing unless he's older than the rest of them."

"Do you think that's why he was able to walk in sunlight?" said Abby.

"I don't know," said Grayson. "There's nothing in the journals about that."

"Yeah," said John, "but you're forgetting what _is_ in them. If he really is an original vampire, then we _do_ have a way to kill him."

"The silver dagger and the vial of white oak ash," said Daniel. "If we manage to stab him with it, then it'll just be a matter of finding a good place to hide the body so no one ever pulls the dagger back out."

"But the dagger and the ash are at the lakehouse!" said Emma. "It's a ten-hour drive!"

"Then we don't have any time to waste," said Daniel. "John, you come with us. We'll drive in shifts. The rest of you, be careful. If he shows up again, a regular stake should buy us a few more hours."

"Shouldn't we all go?" said Grayson. He didn't like the idea of dividing their forces.

"No," said Daniel. "We need to act like everything else is normal. John, Emma, and I came here in our car, so it won't look strange when we leave in it. Keep taking vervain and make sure you don't invite anyone in this house, but try to act as normal as possible until he shows up again. We've got the car phone; call us if anything happens." Without further ado, the three of them departed.

"I've spent a lot of time recently with a coven whose specialty is cloaking spells," said Sheila once they were gone. "I might be able to cast one on Elena. On all of you."

"I don't want to hide," said Grayson. "I want Mikael dead."

"But he's not the only one who wants to hurt her," said Miranda. "There's still Klaus."

"We'll take care of Mikael," said Sheila, "but after that I'll see if there's something I can do to hide Elena from Klaus."

"How are you going to be able to get close enough to Mikael to take him down after you have that dagger?" said Abby.

"Oh, you and I can definitely help with that, honey," said Sheila. "It's one of the easiest spells to cast. You just haven't needed it yet."

X

In order to maintain the appearance of normalcy, Grayson went to the clinic early the next morning to meet with his flooring contractor about the work he and his guys would be doing that day. Grayson was off rotation at the hospital until Sunday, and he intended for all of this to be over before he went back. He brought the compass and his crossbow with him and kept them within easy reach throughout the meeting. Despite these added precautionary measures, he still felt deeply uneasy the entire time. He'd been fighting vampires since he was seventeen, and this was the first time it had really scared him. It would be one thing if they were coming for him, but they were after his daughter. That was what made it frightening.

The contractor left after giving Grayson his carbon copy of the work order. He and his guys would be back in an hour to start working. Grayson had just retrieved the crossbow and the compass when the needle began to move. Immediately on high alert, he turned on the spot, aiming the crossbow in the direction the needle indicated. It finally stopped, pointing directly towards the back door of the clinic.

A man walked through it. He wasn't Mikael, and he didn't look anything like the sketch of Klaus either. He was tall, thin, and had dark hair that came down to his shoulders. He approached very slowly, hands raised level with his head. "I mean you no harm," he said. He had a Russian accent.

"Why should I believe you?" said Grayson.

"My name is Demetri. You are Grayson Gilbert. Mikael came here yesterday. You tried to kill him but were unsuccessful?"

"How do you know that?" said Grayson, not lowering his crossbow.

"I followed him here," said Demetri. "I have wanted Mikael the Northman dead longer than you can possibly imagine."

"Again, why should I believe you?" said Grayson, finger tightening on the trigger.

"Because he destroyed my life. He is not like other vampires."

"I know," said Grayson. "He's an Original."

"That is not what I mean. The rest of us, we drink blood from humans. He chooses to drink blood from _his own kind_. He kills most of the vampires he hunts, but every so often, he chooses one to keep as a living food source. He did this to my wife for _decades_ before he finally drove a stake through her heart. I swore that I would see him destroyed, for Sofia's sake."

The anger in Demetri's eyes seemed very genuine. Grayson cautiously lowered the crossbow. "What help are you willing to give us?"

"I can offer my strength. It is not equal to his, but I may be able to buy you time if you need it," said Demetri. "Of course, no amount of strength will be enough if we don't have the right weapons. Original vampires are almost impossible to kill."

"We might have something that can do the job," said Grayson.

"You do?" said Demetri eagerly. "What is it? Do you have it with you? I can help you find him and we can kill him right now!"

"Slow down," said Grayson. "I don't have it yet, it's on its way."

X

 _The greatest regret I have in my life is that I didn't shoot Demetri in the heart the second he walked through that door. I let him talk. I let him convince me he would help us. I told him enough for him to figure out that I had access to a weapon that could kill Mikael. What I didn't know at the time was that Original vampires can compel ordinary vampires as easily as they can compel humans. I was about to learn that in the worst way possible._

X

Twenty hours was a long time to spend in a car, but they were almost home, the dagger and vial of ash tucked inside Emma's purse. It was just after dark, and in less than an hour, they'd be back at Grayson's house, planning their next move. John had only fought one vampire before, and Grayson had been the one to kill it. He was hoping he'd get a bigger piece of the action this time, but he doubted it. Maybe if he was raising Elena as his daughter instead of pretending to be her uncle, he'd have the right to wield the dagger when they took Mikael down. Giving her to Grayson and Miranda had been the best thing he could have done for her, and he'd never regretted it, but sometimes he couldn't help wondering what it would be like if he was the one she ran towards, yelling "Daddy!" in her sweet little voice whenever he entered the room.

"Do we have enough gas to get the rest of the way to Grayson's?" Emma asked. They were about fifteen miles from Mystic Falls.

"You've asked me that three times, dear," said Daniel. "We still have a quarter tank. We'll be fine."

"I can't believe this is happening," said Emma. "First the attack at the boarding house, and now one of the oldest vampires on the planet is after our innocent little grandbaby. It's like 1865 all over again."

"Not if we have anything to say about it, Mom," said John, reaching over the seat to grip her shoulder.

"Oh, my brave, brave boys," she said, clasping his hand back and reaching for the hand Daniel was resting on the gear shift. "I'm so proud of all of you."

At precisely that moment, something large appeared in the road right in front of the car. Daniel yelled and jerked the wheel. The car fishtailed sideways at sixty miles per hour, and the force of forward momentum caused the tires to leave the pavement. They rolled at least twice in mid-air, and at least three more times once they touched back down. After three seconds that felt like eternity, their crumpled metal prison screeched to a stop on the asphalt, perched precariously upright on the driver's side.

John's whole body hurt. Something wet coated the right side of his face, it was difficult to breathe, and he could see bone poking through his right pant leg. It seemed like that should've hurt a lot more than it did. Was he going into shock? Probably.

"Mom?" he croaked. "Dad? Are you okay?" No answer. Blackness was beginning to gather at the edges of his vision. He tried to fight it. He needed to know that they were alright.

Before he could make any attempt to investigate further, the car was wrenched back onto its wheels with jarring speed. A face appeared on the passenger side. A vampire's face. It wasn't Mikael, though.

"Dead," he said, peering in at the front seat. The word struck John like a ton of bricks to the stomach. _It can't be true,_ he thought desperately. The vampire turned to face him. "And you won't be much of a hindrance either in your condition. No need to kill you as well. Where's the dagger?"

John didn't reply, he only glared.

The vampire shrugged, his face going back to normal. "Tell me, don't tell me. I'll find it either way. I think it is not in the trunk; you would have wanted to be able to use it if Mikael surprised you." He ripped the passenger door off as though it was made of tin foil, tossed it aside, and reached for the glove compartment. "Not here." He continued to look around. "Ah, the woman's purse." John couldn't see what he was doing, partially because the front seat blocked his view, but mostly because his vision was getting steadily blurrier. "Yes, here we are."

The vampire stepped back from the car, now holding both the dagger and the vial of ashes. "You know this dagger has been missing for hundreds of years?" he said. "It made Mikael very cross to lose it. Your family is very clever to have kept it this long. I hope at least one of you makes it out alive. Probably it will be you." He gestured with the dagger like he was tipping a hat. "Dasvidania."

John remained conscious just long enough after that to watch him vanish.

X

 _When I got the call from the hospital, I thought they'd changed their mind about letting me have so much time off. But it was to tell me that both my parents' bodies were in the morgue and my little brother was in surgery with nine broken bones and serious internal bleeding. I went to the hospital immediately. Miranda called Abby to tell her what had happened. We already knew it hadn't been an accident. That meant the dagger and ash were gone, and with them, our best chance of stopping Mikael._

X

John's surgery was a success, and Grayson helped the other doctors put his broken limbs in traction afterwards. He woke up close to the end of the process, but he was very groggy. Off a look from Grayson, everyone else left the room.

"How're you feeling, John?" he asked.

"Hmm? That you, Gray?" said John. His speech was very slow and a little slurred thanks to the pain meds.

"It's me. You've just come out of surgery."

"Oh." John tensed up suddenly, looking slightly more alert. "Mom and Dad?"

"Gone," said Grayson. A lump had risen in his throat, and it was almost impossible to talk around it. "Dead on arrival."

"He came out of nowhere," said John.

"Who?" said Grayson. "Mikael?"

"Uh-uh. Different guy. Longer hair. Russian."

Grayson's eyes widened. Demetri. It had to be. "Why did he attack you?"

"So he could get the dagger for Mikael," said John.

Grayson's insides turned to ice. It was all a trick. Demetri had only offered his help because he was acting as Mikael's spy. And Grayson was the one who had given him the information he needed.

"I'm sorry, Gray," said John. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "I wanted to protect Elena. I know I wouldn't have been a good dad, but I thought I could be a good uncle. But the dagger's gone, and Mom and Dad... Mikael's gonna win, isn't he?"

"We'll find another way to stop him," said Grayson, though he wasn't sure he believed it. "You should get some rest. You've got a lot of healing to do."

He walked out of John's recovery room, running both hands hard over his face and hair. The temptation to fall to pieces was strong. His parents were dead, his brother had almost died too, they no longer had a plan, and all of it was his fault. What if they _couldn't_ stop Mikael? What if he lost Elena too?

"Grayson." He looked up. Abby Bennett was standing in front of him.

"What are you doing here, Abby?" he asked. He glanced down. "And why do you have a handkerchief tied around your hand?"

"We can still take Mikael down," she said, ignoring his second question. "We'll have to move quickly, though. He could be back at your house any time."

"How can we stop him?" said Grayson. "The dagger's gone."

"We don't need it," said Abby. She looked up and down the hospital corridor and pulled him towards a more secluded spot. "I found a spell in one of my mom's books. It's a desiccation spell. It can stop Mikael's heart. It's the next best thing to killing him, and I can cast it."

"You? Why not your mom?" said Grayson, frowning.

Abby bit her lip and glanced around nervously again. "As far as my mom knows, we're still using the dagger. It's very important that she keeps thinking that until we get past the point of no return."

"So this isn't a spell she would approve of."

"It's...dark magic," Abby admitted. "Pretty serious dark magic, actually. But with that dagger gone, we don't really have any other options."

"What do we need to do?" said Grayson. Right now, any solution was a good solution.

"Miranda and I have already done the first part," said Abby.

"Is that what the handkerchief is about?" said Grayson.

She nodded. "Is there somewhere we can go that nobody will disturb us?"

"Not in the hospital," said Grayson. "We should go to the clinic."

X

At the house, Miranda was pacing anxiously in the living room. She kept her left hand shoved deep in her pocket—she didn't want Sheila asking questions about the cut on her palm. In her right hand, she held fancy silver dagger that had once been her great-grandfather's and had been used as a letter-opener for the last sixty years or so. She'd spent the few minutes after Abby left and before Sheila arrived putting a sharp edge back on it. It looked like a miniature rapier, and it passed adequately for the dagger from her in-laws' small armory at the lakehouse. She was trying hard not to think about her in-laws, or about the fact that her husband was now an orphan.

Sheila was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor while Bonnie and Elena played in front of her. Incense was burning again, and the smell was making Miranda feel a little queasy. "You sure you want to be the one to do this?" Sheila asked. "I'm pretty sure stabbing an ancient vampire in the chest isn't on the list of recommended third trimester exercises."

"I can do it," said Miranda. "Mikael doesn't view me as a threat, and that gives me the advantage."

"Well, if Abby makes it back with Grayson before he shows up, then I still think it'd be safer for you to sit this one out."

Miranda was spared the trouble of trying to reply in a way that wouldn't arouse Sheila's suspicion by the needle of the vampire compass, which had begun to move. Miranda and Sheila exchanged grim glances. Sheila scooped Bonnie up into her arms. Bonnie squirmed, but stopped once she succeeded in grabbing her bear.

"Elena, sweetie?" said Miranda.

Elena looked up at her with wide eyes, her grip slackening on the blue crayon she was holding.

"Can you be a really big girl for Mommy right now?"

Elena sat up a little straighter and nodded vigorously.

"We're about to have the biggest game of hide-and-seek _ever_." Elena's eyes went even wider. Hide-and-seek was her favorite game. "I need you to go hide now. There might be a lot of noise, but no matter what, don't come out until Mommy comes and finds you, okay?"

"Okay!" said Elena. She jumped to her feet and ran off towards the laundry room. Miranda could hear her saying "Shh, shh!" to herself the whole way. Every time they had played hide-and-seek with her all summer, Elena had always hid inside the laundry basket, and she was very good at making sure the door was shut and she was hidden underneath a thick layer of dirty clothes. It had taken them fifteen minutes to find her the first time, which was why Miranda knew she would probably stay put if she hid there now.

It only took a few seconds after Miranda heard the laundry room door close that someone knocked on the front door. Miranda exchanged another glance with Sheila, and then they went to answer it, though Sheila remained out of sight behind the stairs. Miranda tucked the letter opener into her back pocket before reaching for the handle.

Sure enough, it was Mikael. Miranda glowered at him. "You murdered Grayson's parents."

"I did warn you," said Mikael. "Perhaps now you'll take the threat seriously. I haven't decided who I'll target next. It would be a simple matter to kill your mother and sister, but much simpler still to finish off your brother-in-law, and then I could move on to your husband. After that I can start going through the townspeople. The newest deputy in the sheriff department, perhaps? Or the bartender at the charmingly rustic restaurant on Main Street."

Miranda didn't have to pretend to cry, but as intimidating as it was that he already knew where Jenna and her mom were and that Liz and Kelly were two of her closest friends, the tears were born of anger, not fear. What gave him the right to hurt innocent people in pursuit of some vendetta against his son? How could he act like he had the moral high ground over Klaus if he was willing to stoop this low?

"I could do all that, and I still might. It occurs to me that sparing the pregnant woman just so that I can murder all her family and friends doesn't really make moral sense. How about I simply burn this house to the ground with you and Elena inside it?"

"No!" Miranda protested. "Please. If it was just me, that would be one thing, but you'd be killing my son too. Don't rob me of both of my children."

"That sounds like you're considering letting me rob you of one," said Mikael.

"If it will save everyone else's lives...then yes," said Miranda through poorly stifled sobs.

"You have my word that no one else shall be harmed."

"I...I invite you in."

X

"So you and Miranda did the first part of the spell," said Grayson once he and Abby were inside the clinic, the door locked behind them. "What's the second part?"

"The spell works by stopping the target vampire's heart. However, in order to do that, I have to stop the heart of a human," said Abby, looking him straight in the eyes.

"And I'm the human," said Grayson.

"Miranda told me about your ring a while ago. I wouldn't even have considered trying this if you didn't have it."

"I would have," said Grayson. Abby stared at him. "What? You're telling me you wouldn't die to protect Bonnie?"

Abby blinked. "So you're okay with this?"

"Just tell me what I need to do."

"Lie down on the floor."

Grayson did so, stretching out on the freshly installed carpet. Abby crouched beside him, level with his chest. "What now?" he asked.

"We wait. Miranda and I are connected by blood for now. That's partially what the cuts on our hands are about. All she needs to do is wound Mikael near his heart. Once her fingers touch the wound, I can begin."

"Oh, is that all?" said Grayson. He might be willing to die for this, temporarily or not, but he would've been much more comfortable just using the dagger. There seemed to be a lot more ways this plan could go wrong.

"It's going to work," said Abby. "My mother's there. She's strong enough to hold him until it's over."

X

Mikael stepped over the threshold with a slow, deliberate movement, as though savoring the triumph of the moment. That triumph was short-lived, however. Sheila moved into view, right hand outstretched. "That's as far as you go, vampire."

Mikael's expression turned to outrage, but though he was clearly straining with all his might, he could no longer move. Miranda didn't waste a second. She whipped the letter opener out and slashed it across Mikael's chest as deeply as she could, then jammed the fingers of her bandaged left hand into the wound before it had a chance to close. Mikael's eyes widened in bewilderment. "Did you really think I was going to let you get what you wanted?" she hissed.

"Miranda, child, what are you doing?" said Sheila, her voice strained as though she was lifting an enormous weight.

"Protecting my daughter," said Miranda, eyes still locked with Mikael's, which were growing increasingly horrified. But then his lips curled in a snarl. He strained harder against Sheila's paralyzing magic, and, very slowly, his limbs began to inch forward.

"Hold him steady!" Miranda yelled.

"He's too strong!" cried Sheila.

Even as Mikael's fingers drew closer and closer to her throat, Miranda risked a glance over her shoulder at Sheila. Beads of sweat were forming on the woman's brow, and her whole body trembled. But Miranda's gaze was drawn instead to Bonnie. The eighteen-month-old's green eyes were taking in the scene, from her grandmother's outstretched hand to her playmate's mother standing there with her fingers gouged into the chest of a menacing stranger. Then, very carefully, Bonnie reached her own hand, the one not curled around her teddy bear, out in a gesture that mimicked Sheila's, and closed her eyes. Instantly, Mikael's limbs snapped back to their original position, and Sheila's breathing became far less labored.

Miranda turned her astonished gaze back on Mikael, digging her fingers in even deeper, ignoring how much they were beginning to ache. The skin visible through the rip in his shirt was turning gray. Veins and unnatural pallor soon began to spread up his neck. Miranda thought she could feel the slowing of his heart. Five beats later, it stopped completely. He sagged stiffly to the floor, eyes still open.

"What have you and my daughter done, Miranda?"

"What we had to," said Miranda. For all the accusation in Sheila's tone, she didn't feel the least bit repentant. "It worked, didn't it?"

"That may be, but what _else_ did it do?"

X

Grayson sat up with a heaving gasp, his heart hammering wildly, almost as though it was indignant about being made to stop. So that was what dying felt like. He looked around the dark clinic, then let out a cry of alarm. "Abby!" His wife's best friend was lying facedown on the floor a few feet away from him. He scrambled to her side and pressed his fingers against her throat, then jerked away in alarm. Her skin was ice-cold. He rolled her over as carefully as he could and had to stop himself from recoiling again. Her skin was covered in worm-like black veins and her eyes, which were open, had turned completely white. She was still breathing, though. He could tell because every time she exhaled, it came out as a puff of mist.

The door to the clinic burst open. Grayson jumped and tried to prepare for a fight, thinking it would be Mikael or Demetri. Instead, it was Sheila, holding Bonnie, closely followed by Miranda, Elena's hand clutched tightly in hers.

"Oh, baby, no," said Sheila. Bonnie, having spotted her mother on the floor, began to cry.

"What's happening to her?" said Grayson.

"Dark magic, that's what," said Sheila. She passed Bonnie to him and crouched down beside her daughter. "It's more dangerous to the caster than using hard drugs. One witch in a hundred can come out the other side of it perfectly fine. Most become addicted to it to one degree or another. The rest OD. If they survive, it's not without a price. I warned Abby never to go near those spells. It only takes a single spell, and she picked one of the nastiest ones I've ever heard of." Sheila held her hands out over Abby, one above her heart, the other above her forehead, and began to whisper a rhythmic, sibilant incantation.

Grayson looked up at his wife. "Mikael?" he asked quietly.

"He's down," said Miranda. "The spell worked. We also found the dagger and vial of ashes on him." Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Are you okay?"

"Physically," said Grayson. "But that's about it."

"What about John? You never called to let us know how his surgery went."

"He's in traction, but he'll be fine. I don't know if...if he'll be out in time for the funeral." He couldn't hold back the tide of his grief any longer. It crashed over him in waves. His face crumpled and tears rolled down his cheeks. Miranda wrapped her free arm around him.

X

 _I'm sure you're wondering about Demetri. I was too. He didn't show up again until after my parents' funeral. The first time I went back to the clinic, he was waiting there for me. He apologized. Said he never wanted to hurt anyone in my family. What he'd told me about his wife was only half-true. The part he left out was that Mikael had been using him as a blood source as well. He also left out that as much as he genuinely wanted Mikael dead, he was a slave of the Original's compulsion and had to act on his behalf whether he liked it or not._

 _Demetri's apology and explanation fell on deaf ears. You see, by the time I started making the funeral arrangements, I already knew exactly what I was going to do with him if he showed his face again. Up until that point, I didn't have plans for what to do with this room, but it occurred to me that it was just the right size to set up a lab like the one in Whitmore House. So when Demetri finished his story and asked for my forgiveness, I jammed the vervain dart I'd been carrying in my pocket into his throat instead._

 _The battle against Mikael, the death of my parents, and the fact that Elena is a doppelgänger changed everything. The most powerful vampires in the world are after my daughter, and they can control the actions of any other vampire. Once she finished recovering physically from the effects of the desiccation spell, Abby offered to take Mikael's body somewhere it would never be found. We were too preoccupied to realize how odd it was that she would insist on doing it alone. She left him chained up inside a coffin in a mausoleum in Charlotte. But she never came back. I don't think Sheila's ever completely forgiven us for that, or for our complicity in her use of a dark magic spell that nearly killed her, even though we didn't know about that particular risk._

 _The worst of it was my parents. I blamed myself for their deaths. If I'd never strayed from what they taught me, Demetri never would have succeeded in getting information out of me. Enzo earned my trust, so I believed Demetri deserved some benefit of the doubt too. I kept Demetri prisoner in the Augustine-style torture lab underneath my wholesome family clinic, using him as my test subject. I doubt even Wesley Maxfield has dreamed of some of the things I did to him over the next five years._

 _I never went back for Enzo. I was never going to take the chance that a vampire would hurt someone else I loved because I let him get too close. It may have occurred to me that Enzo—who even after more than four decades in the Society's clutches, refused to escape if it would endanger me—would sooner have died than harm someone I cared about. But I was too angry, too full of guilt, and too afraid to be reasonable._

 _If I didn't already feel like a failure for the way my own parents died, there was still more to come. Jeremy was not Miranda's only pregnancy. Barely a year after he was born, she was pregnant again. She had a lot of difficulty delivering Jeremy, and it caused complications in that second pregnancy. I convinced her to take a few vampire blood capsules like the ones I've been making with your blood. It didn't occur to me that the blood would cause her immune system to treat the fetus like an infection. She miscarried the same day. I never made that mistake again, and she never blamed me for it, but I can't help wondering if it's my fault she hasn't been able to carry a baby to term since then._

 _Another couple of years passed, and my mother-in-law was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It came out of nowhere, and it still has one of the lowest survival rates of any type of cancer today. Even after what had happened with the baby, Miranda still wanted to try vampire blood as a cure. I already knew better. Back at Whitmore, I'd been able to test the effects of vampire blood on a sample of a malignant tumor in a petri dish. The results were like something out of a '50s B horror movie. Enzo and I had to burn it to stop it from growing. So there was nothing I could do to help Miranda's mom, just like there'd been nothing I could do to help my parents._

 _Through all the struggles and loss, I made myself feel better by using Demetri's blood to cure my patients. It worked a lot better for them than it did for me. John spent most of his time—still does—traveling the country, hunting vampires. In 1999, he was visiting us when he overheard Miranda and me discussing my work with Demetri's blood. He knew that I'd done experiments with vampire blood at Whitmore because he'd overheard me arguing with Dad about it while he was still in high school._

X

November 1999

Grayson had finished his last appointment for the day—his sixth case of strep throat that week—but he still wanted to finish the latest round of tests in the lab. Over the summer, he'd learned exactly how much electricity it took to incapacitate a vampire for a useful period of time. Too much to make tasing a viable alternative to vervain, it turned out. He'd moved on from that line of inquiry to drowning. It seemed that vampires couldn't survive without oxygen for much longer than a human—except that a human couldn't reboot like a computer, only to begin the drowning process all over again.

In the last five years, he'd tested the boundaries of vampire indestructibility in every way he could think of. He had several notebooks full of his findings, which he hoped to add to the Gilbert journal collection one day. Vampires weren't only vulnerable to vervain, sunlight, fire, wooden stakes, and removal of the heart or head—their other weaknesses just tended to be slightly less convenient for using in battle. But you never knew how an Original vampire was going to show up to abduct your daughter for a gruesome ritual; any edge could prove to be the difference between success and failure.

When he reached the bottom of the basement stairs, however, he noticed that the door to the lab was ajar. He always kept it locked, particularly ever since Elena almost wandered right into it back in June. The first stirrings of panic spread through him. Had Demetri escaped? He approached the door very cautiously, drawing a vervain dart from his pocket as he did. He pushed the door open.

Demetri had not escaped. Demetri was lying in his cell, skin gray and covered in raised veins, a wooden crossbow bolt through his heart.

"Oh! There you are, Gray."

Grayson turned to face his brother, who was sitting on one of the counters with an air of very forced nonchalance. "John."

"Care to explain what the hell you've been doing down here?" John's voice had an edge to it.

"Research," said Grayson shortly.

"Research," John repeated, nodding. "Like they taught you in that freaky vampire blood cult at your school. Aren't doctors supposed to take that hypocritic oath or something?"

"Hippocratic," said Grayson.

"Yeah, that's right," said John. "'Do no harm.'" He picked up one of the notebooks Grayson used to record his findings and waved it at him. "That's _very_ interesting."

"You live off the trust fund and hunt vampires full-time, John. Are you seriously questioning the _harm_ I do one of them?"

"No. I'm questioning how you justify feeding your patients something that could turn them into monsters."

"I take every precaut—" Grayson began angrily, but John cut him off.

"I'm _also_ questioning," he said, hopping down from the counter and walking towards Grayson, "why you have _this_ vampire in that cell. The same one that crashed the car with me, Mom, and Dad in it." He shoved a cart of surgical tools out of his way. They went flying and clattered loudly against the wall and floor. "The same one that _you told me_ had disappeared." His voice was getting louder with every word, and by the time he finished the last sentence, he was standing less than a yard away.

"Yeah, because he had to pay for what he did to them!" Grayson shouted. "For what he did to you!"

John's features contorted in rage and he swung directly at Grayson's face. Grayson was the one who had taught John most of his fighting moves, but John was definitely the one who'd had more opportunities to hone those moves in recent years. Grayson couldn't dodge quickly enough, and John's fist caught him on his nose. He felt it break, and blood immediately sprayed from both nostrils.

"I HUNTED HIM FOR _YEARS_ ," John roared. "This should have been a decision we made together, but you let me follow dead-end leads that landed me in a Russian prison I'm lucky I didn't spend the rest of my life in while you hoarded all the revenge for yourself! Did it ever occur to you how badly I needed this? I was the one in the car with Mom and Dad! I was the one who couldn't do anything to save them."

The revelation that his brother had been carrying so much misplaced guilt with him for the last five years forced the words out of Grayson that he'd sworn never to tell him. "That wasn't your fault, John." He grabbed a wad of paper towels off the roll next to the door and began trying to mop up the mess of his broken nose. "While all of you were on the way to get the dagger from the lake house, Demetri showed up here. He said he wanted to help us stop Mikael."

"And you let him walk out of here alive?" said John in angry disbelief.

"I _believed_ him," said Grayson, the familiar feeling of guilt twisting in his gut like a knife. "It made sense that a normal vampire would want the unkillable vampire-hunting vampire dead. I was an idiot to trust even that much, but I didn't think we had a choice but to accept all the help we could get against Mikael."

John stared at him. Horrified realization flashed in his eyes, and his face twisted in disgust. "You told him we had the dagger. That was the reason he came after us. It was because of you."

"I know that," said Grayson. "That's why I kept Demetri here. It was partly for revenge, but mostly because I hated myself for that mistake, and I hoped that using Demetri's blood to cure incurable diseases in my patients would make the guilt a little easier to bear."

"Has it?" said John.

"No."

"Good." With that, he shouldered his way roughly past Grayson and stalked out of the clinic.

X

 _That was the day my little brother stopped seeing me as a hero. Ever since, he's spent even less time in Mystic Falls than he did before. I'm pretty sure the only reason he ever visits is to see Elena. She doesn't like him, though. She's caught him starting arguments with me too many times, and it's never occurred to her that he might have a very good reason not to like me. If there was something I could do to make things right with John, I would, but I don't know if it's even possible._

 _Looking back, I realize that I let my obsessive determination to protect my family turn me into what I hated. I told myself for years that John was wrong and what I had done was necessary if we were going to stand a chance when Klaus or any other Original vampires came after Elena, but a lot of what I did to Demetri was more about revenge than medicine or getting answers about the Originals. And in the end, I did leave Enzo to the mercy of Dr. Maxfield._

Present Day

It was close to 7:00 by the time Grayson finished his story. Damon moved away from the wall he'd been leaning against and began undoing the restraints holding Grayson to the exam table. "Is Enzo still alive?"

"Yes," said Grayson, sitting up straight and swinging his legs over the side of the table. "I haven't been to the Whitmore lab in fifteen years, but I've kept up with Maxfield's reports, and they're still about subject 12144."

"Good," said Damon. He picked up the Gilbert ring off the tray and held it out. "Because you and I are going to help each other make good on some old promises."

Grayson accepted the ring and replaced it on his finger. "Ah. So that's why you're not going to kill me."

"Pfft. That's not why at all. After this morning, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't last five minutes once Miranda realized what happened. Especially now that I know she freaking _stabbed_ the oldest vampire in the world right in the heart while she was seven months pregnant."

Grayson chuckled.

Damon sat down beside Grayson on the table. "Do you still want to know why I erased Elena's memories?"

"I do."

"You know how vampires can manipulate dreams if they're strong enough?"

"I've read about that."

"Elena wanted me to use that ability to show her what life was like in the decades before she was born. I did, and she loved it. I shouldn't have tried to pull off a trick like that again until I finished healing, but I didn't want to wait. She ended up lost in my subconscious. Before I could pull her out, she saw things I never wanted her to see. The memories I'm most ashamed of. Leaving Enzo to die in the fire in '58 was one of them. Since the night we met, Elena's been determined to prove to me that I'm not past saving. I erased her memories because I couldn't bear to see her realize how wrong she'd been."

"Just because Elena has a gift for seeing the best in people," said Grayson, "it doesn't mean she's incapable of handling the worst. What would matter to her is that your worst is in your past and you intend to leave it there."

"What about you?" said Damon. "Do you still hate yourself?"

"Much less than I did while I had Demetri here," said Grayson with a shrug. "Self-loathing is harder to maintain once you stop giving it fuel. It flares back up whenever John visits, though."

Damon didn't reply. Grayson's story had given him a lot to think about, but that could wait. They had a more pressing matter to deal with. "So how are we going to get Enzo out? I'm guessing you're still not willing to budge on that annoying no-massacring-humans policy."

"Obviously," said Grayson. Then he smirked. "Actually, Whitmore's annual alumni dinner is tomorrow evening. I wasn't going to go, but now I think I might put in an appearance after all."

A grin spread across Damon's face. It was time to plan a jailbreak.

* * *

In preparation for writing this chapter, I dug through TVD's wiki pages and flashback episodes until I had amassed an entire page of notes about the dates of past events—high school graduation years for all the adults, birth dates for all the kids, the timeline of Grayson's medical training, etc. That made writing this chapter a lot like solving a jigsaw—just, one with a few pieces missing and some that go to a completely different puzzle. Canon TVD's timeline is a complete mess, so I did have to tweak a few things. Such as Grayson's interactions with Enzo. The show never says that this stuff didn't happen, but the fact that it also never says that it _did_ has always felt like a major missed opportunity to me. Logistically, Grayson would have been working for Augustine while Enzo was there. Shouldn't that have had an impact on the way Enzo interacted with Grayson's daughter? *throws hands up in frustration at the show's writers* The only actual retcon I did, though, (besides ignoring what canon says about John and Jenna being in high school together, because the math on that doesn't work _at all_ ) was the takedown of Mikael. Abby's explanation of how she did it in "Ties that Bind" suggests that she cast the desiccation spell entirely unassisted (or, at most, with Miranda's help), but that makes _no sense_ given the way Bonnie and the rest do the spell on Klaus in "Before Sunset." It's clearly a spell that needs at least three participants (the witch casting it, the human whose heart is getting stopped, and the conduit who can jam their fingers into the target vampire's chest), and that's not including all the manpower/magic required to hold a very powerful vampire still for the minute-long duration of the spell. So I pretty much tossed the "Ties that Bind" explanation and substituted a more logical one. That I even needed to do this makes me annoyed with the writers. Another thing I needed to accomplish in this chapter was to account for why Elena and Jeremy have no grandparents. Figuring out how to kill all four of them was interesting, and it was really painful to write Daniel and Emma's deaths. It had the unintended side-effect of making me sympathize with John.

So, notes on continuity and timelines aside, even though this chapter has almost nothing to do with Damon/Elena, I really enjoyed exploring Grayson like this. I've been portraying him as very protective but still rational and reasonable, extremely clever, and typically not too quick to take action before he has sufficient information. Going back and following his journey from idealistic vampire-hunting college student who defied his upbringing by making friends with a vampire to jaded, bitter, angry guy who blames himself for his parents' deaths, ruined his relationship with his brother, willingly did worse to a captive vampire than any Augustine ever has, and ultimately abandoned his vampire friend? That was _awesome_.There were moments in this chapter where I had to force myself not to minimize the awfulness of Grayson's mistakes. For example, I was tempted to have it just be an unspoken idea that he could help Enzo escape after Maxfield took over, but Grayson's ultimate abandonment of Enzo would be so much worse if he had actually _said_ it out loud. For me, writing this chapter has brought a ton of extra depth to a character I already adored. And for Damon to see how this guy he grudgingly respects hasn't always been the brilliant, pragmatic good guy he is now, but has gone through his own arc of rising, falling until he hit bottom, and then rising again? It's much better proof that there's still hope for Damon too than just about anything else out there.

Anyone rereading this chapter will notice that I changed Grayson's mom's name from Sarah to Emma. I didn't remember until about a month and a half after writing this chapter that there are already two Sarahs in the TVD universe (Sarah Salvatore/Nelson and Aaron Whitmore's aunt Sarah) so I wanted to pick something a little more unique, particularly because both canon Sarahs might make appearances in the fic at some point.


	3. The Rebel Alliance

To everyone coming here from the author's note at the end of "Off by a Single Degree," this is the first actual new chapter. Enjoy!

HA. It's happening. I've officially established a pattern by posting at the end of the month three months in a row, and this is a pattern I fully intend to stick to. I've never given myself a posting schedule before, and so far it seems that even an arbitrary deadline is a more effective motivator than just the vague, open-ended idea of posting eventually.

To everyone who reviewed the last chapter, thank you so much. I don't think I've ever gotten so many long, thoughtful reviews on an individual chapter before, or so few irritating "update soon!" ones. One common theme in those reviews, though, was a hope that Damon would quickly reverse the compulsion he did on Elena. Patience. Trust in the fact that I am a very passionate Damon/Elena shipper who wants things to work out for them. (Hear that, canon? *threatening glare at TVD writers*)

This chapter picks up all the plotlines where chapter 20 (now chapter 1 of Part II) left them. Grayson's backstory is done, and we're back in the present.

* * *

"So are you going to tell me what made you abandon my convalescent self halfway through the treatment?" said Damon.

"I don't know," said Stefan. "Are you going to tell me why you're three hours late to helping me recruit donors for the blood drive?"

Damon suppressed a scowl. It had always been easy to provoke Stefan into talking when he was on animal blood, but he turned into quite the sarcastic little asshole when he was on the human stuff. "I had a few things to discuss with the Doc. Including Elena's real parentage, if you still care about that."

Stefan's head snapped around to face him, but they'd reached the door of the next house by then, and, with great satisfaction, Damon denied him the chance to reply immediately by ringing the doorbell.

After a couple of seconds, the door was opened by a pretty woman in her late twenties or early thirties. She gave a polite but confused smile. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so," said Damon, laying on the charm. "I'm Damon Salvatore. My brother Stefan and I are out recruiting volunteers for the emergency blood drive at Dr. Gilbert's clinic tomorrow." He held up the clipboard with the sign-up sheet, currently about half-full. "What time can we put you down for?"

"I'm sorry," said the woman, her smile turning apologetic. "I know it's a good cause, but I'm terrified of needles."

"Not anymore," said Damon, staring into her eyes.

Her apologetic expression cleared. "Of course I can donate. Is there a spot open in the morning still?"

"Absolutely," said Damon, beaming at her. Looking her up and down as she wrote her information on the sheet, he thought what a waste it was that she'd be donating through a needle. Maybe he'd pay her another visit after Grayson cleared him to start drinking blood again instead of relying on transfusions from Stefan.

X

"Look, I know this was my idea in the first place," said Jeremy, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "but are you sure you don't want to wait?"

"What would be the point?" said Anna. The two of them were standing on Jeremy's front porch, and it was just before sunset. "I'd rather get it over with. Unless you're having second thoughts about the wisdom of this plan."

"I'm not!" Jeremy insisted. "But this is still kinda nerve-wracking, you know? I've never introduced a girl to my parents before." Anna gave him a look. His cheeks went red. "A vampire!" he amended. "I've never introduced a _vampire_ to my parents before."

Anna tried and mostly failed to suppress an amused grin. Her cheeks might've been a bit red too. She definitely liked this boy, and that was seeming less and less like a problem. "So should I wait out here?" she asked, gesturing to the porch swing in front of the still busted window from the Mayor's attack Tuesday night. It was currently covered with plywood and scheduled for repair on Monday.

"It doesn't have to be right here, specifically. Just wherever you can still hear what we're saying, I guess," said Jeremy. "And if it sounds like it's going south at first, don't do that dumb thing people do on TV a lot where they get upset and leave and miss the part where it's not as bad as they thought, okay?"

Anna snorted and rolled her eyes. "Okay, I will not be a TV cliché."

Jeremy smiled sheepishly. He still looked very nervous, and he'd raked a hand through his hair so many times that it was standing on end. "The goal for now is just to explain your situation and get them willing to meet you. We can work on getting you an invitation later—I think it's probably better if one of them invites you in than if I do it without permission."

"Ah," said Anna. "Makes sense. If you're following the rules even more closely than they already wanted you to, then it makes you look all reasonable and willing to compromise, which also makes them look unreasonable if they don't do the same."

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"You ready?"

Jeremy took a deep breath and stood up straighter. "I think so."

"Then you'd better go in and do it before _I_ change my mind," said Anna. Before she could convince herself it was a bad idea, she stood on tiptoe and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck." When she drew back and met his gaze, she found him staring at her, looking like he'd been hit over the head. He touched the spot where she'd kissed him. "Well, are you going or not?"

"Yeah," he said dazedly. Then his brain seemed to start working again, and he suddenly looked more resolved than he had at any point so far. "Okay. Here goes."

He turned and went inside. Anna walked over to the swing and flopped onto it, trying to remain calm. There was no going back now.

X

"So this Enzo guy has been getting tortured in that lab ever since you left?" said Jenna, feeling queasy. She had to talk slightly louder than usual because they were using the TV to make it harder for any eavesdroppers, supernatural or otherwise, to listen in. "How do you know he's still sane enough to appreciate being free? How do you know he won't just start attacking people after being starved for so long?"

"He kept his sanity from World War II to the late eighties when I showed up," said Grayson. "And Maxfield's reports since I left have occasionally mentioned the subject's impressive psychological fortitude. As to whether he'll have enough control or inclination not to attack people, Damon will be responsible for making sure he sticks to the terms of my original deal with him and his brother as well."

"The deal you plan to break by killing Damon and Stefan in September, you mean," said Jenna. Miranda pursed her lips, but Grayson's expression was harder to read.

"I'm not so sure about that anymore," he said.

"You're not?" said Miranda, surprised.

"I should never have abandoned Enzo. What happened with Mikael and Demetri made me think befriending him was a stupid mistake, but now I wonder if my parents would still be alive if I'd helped him escape and we'd had him on our side." He looked down at his hands.

"You don't know the result would've been better," said Miranda, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Maybe Mikael would've just controlled him or killed him and it would've gone even worse."

"Maybe," Grayson admitted, covering her hand with his own. "But either way, like Enzo, the Salvatores have proven themselves to be more than just allies. They've gone above and beyond the terms of the deal. If more original vampires show up looking for Elena, I want them fighting with us."

"What about the Originals' compulsion?" said Jenna. "I thought that wasn't an acceptable risk."

"It wouldn't be," said Grayson, "but we can take precautions against that too. I learned from my research that vampires can gradually build up their tolerance to vervain. I had to use more and more of it to keep Demetri subdued, and the records of past Augustines showed that Enzo required more than quadruple the dose they started him on in the '40s by the time I got there. We know from when Mikael tried to compel Miranda that vervain protects against Originals as well as ordinary vampires. Any ordinary vampires taking vervain would maybe be a little weaker than usual, but they could slowly build up their tolerance, and they'd be protected against compulsion. It wasn't an option I would've considered before the Salvatores earned my trust."

"And Katherine?" said Miranda. "Are you really going to let Damon free her?"

"As long as she doesn't see Elena before they leave, she'll have no reason to suspect there's another Petrova doppelgänger here."

"Well, it all sounds good to me," said Jenna. "I never liked the idea of double-crossing them anyway."

"The best time to sneak Enzo out will be tomorrow during the alumni dinner," said Grayson. "We can meet up with Damon to plan after the blood drive tomorrow."

X

Jeremy's parents and aunt were all in the living room where they'd been since his dad got home just after dinner. From the sound of it, they were watching _The Fugitive_. Jeremy, cheek still tingling from Anna's kiss, took a few steps closer, but right before they would've noticed him, he changed direction and headed upstairs instead. Three against one were daunting odds, but if he got Elena down there too, he could probably win her over the fastest. She was a huge softie; she'd be all in favor of helping Anna reunite with her mother. Then it would be three against two.

He knocked on Elena's door. He hadn't seen much of her today, but she'd been really quiet at dinner and had disappeared up to her room pretty fast once she finished eating. "Come in," she said.

He pushed the door open. Elena was sitting cross-legged on top of her bed, with what appeared to be her diary open on the comforter in front of her. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," said Elena without glancing up at him. She looked very preoccupied.

"Uh, there's something really important I want to talk to you, Mom, Dad, and Aunt Jenna about," he said. "Can you come downstairs, or are you busy?"

"No, I can come," said Elena, frowning up at him. She closed the diary with an unusual amount of force, then got up and headed over to him. He said nothing in response to her curious expression, just led the way back down to the living room.

When they got there, all three adults looked around at them so quickly that it struck Jeremy that they might've been having a serious conversation already and not been paying attention to the movie at all.

"Hey, you two," said Miranda. "What's up?"

"Jeremy said he wants to talk to all of us about something," said Elena, joining Miranda and Grayson on the couch and getting comfortable.

The other three exchanged surprised looks, before turning to Jeremy, who swallowed. Grayson paused the movie and leaned forward a little, elbows propped on his knees. Jeremy walked over and stood in front of the TV, feeling awkward. Where the hell was he supposed to start? "So, uh...this is kind of a long story, and you're all probably going to want to freak out, but can you try to wait until I've said the whole thing?"

None of them responded. Jenna and Elena looked bewildered, but Miranda and Grayson both looked apprehensive. He took that as an invitation to continue.

"On Wednesday, I went to the library to see if I could find anything about werewolves, and I met this girl Anna." His parents looked even more alarmed at this, but his aunt and sister were starting to grin. "She noticed I was in the folklore section and guessed I was trying to look up stuff about the local legends. She said she knew a lot about them, so we headed over to the Grill to talk about it. Coach Tanner was at the bar, and his nose was all bloody." At this, everyone but Elena got more serious. Stefan must've passed on Jeremy's tip about Tanner and the Lockwoods already. Jeremy pretended not to notice anything odd, since he wasn't supposed to know about that yet.

"When we walked past him, Anna's face changed." He gestured at his own face. "Veins and red eyes."

"Wait, this girl is a vampire?" Elena blurted, while Grayson looked like he was about to jump to his feet, and Miranda and Jenna had gone rigid, their mouths opening to speak.

Jeremy held out his hands. "Whoa, whoa, remember what I said about not freaking out? Yes, she's a vampire, but I've been on vervain all summer, remember? I'm fine."

They exchanged more glances and remained silent, but didn't relax yet.

"We sat down at a booth, and I called her out on it," said Jeremy.

"You did _what_?" Miranda gasped.

Jeremy shrugged. "She wasn't happy I'd found out. It turned out she found me at the library on purpose because I'm a Gilbert. She's one of the vampires who lived here during the Civil War."

"How did you get away?" said Grayson.

"Why didn't you tell us as soon as you made it home safe?" said Miranda. Both of their faces were white. Jenna and Elena looked worried too. Jeremy's insides squirmed guiltily. He'd definitely taken risks this week, but he reminded himself firmly that he had a right to keep secrets after all the stuff they'd kept from him.

"Because there wasn't any danger," he said. "I told her that just because I'm a Gilbert, that doesn't mean I hate vampires."

"Hate isn't really the word for it," said Miranda. "We have good reason to be careful. Vampires can kill faster than blinking, and they can strip people of their free will."

"That's the thing, though," said Jeremy. "Anna told me that all the hysteria over vampires in eighteen sixty-four and five only started because of the Lockwoods. One of them was a werewolf, and he killed someone from the town when he transformed, and his family avoided suspicion by using vampires as scapegoats. Some of them, including Anna, had been living in Mystic Falls for over a year without any problems, but the Lockwoods ruined it."

"But how do you know that's not just a story this girl made up to trick you?" said Jenna.

"It fits," said Grayson. "All of the journals I've read from back then say that the first dead body had been mauled almost beyond recognition, which isn't the typical vampire M.O. Johnathan Gilbert was already secretly working with Emily Bennett by then, but he wasn't the one who got the Council riled up to fight back against the vampires. That was Mayor Barnette Lockwood, whose son had come home on leave from the war earlier that month."

"Yeah," said Jeremy, latching onto his dad's train of thought, his confidence rising. His plan might actually work. "Anna's not a big fan of werewolves, but she knows a lot about them. She can help us against Richard Lockwood."

Miranda's eyes were the first to narrow. "In exchange for what?"

This was it. Jeremy was either going to succeed or he was going to fail, but either way, it was going to happen right now. "Her mom is in that tomb under Fell's Church. They're all each other have left. She just wants to get her back." As expected, Elena made a soft noise of sympathy here. "Since you were already going to open the tomb so Damon could get Katherine out, it wouldn't be much of a change to let Anna's mom out too, would it?"

"Maybe, _if_ Anna's mom was the only other one getting out," said Grayson.

"Anna doesn't care what you do to the rest of them," said Jeremy quickly. "And you said Emily Bennett was working with Johnathan Gilbert? Well Emily also trusted Anna and her mom enough to make them daylight amulets so they could blend in with regular townspeople. They didn't hurt anyone while they were here, they just wanted normal lives."

"A lot more people were killed after that first victim in 1864," said Miranda. "We can't be sure which vampires were responsible and which weren't. This is all based on her word."

"Maybe, but even if Anna or her mom wanted to do something bad now, you'd already know who they are, so it'd be tough to get away with it," said Jeremy.

"Why did she approach you in the first place?" said Grayson.

Some of that confidence slipped away again. "Yeah, okay, she wanted to use me as a spy on the family at first, but that was just because she knows we know more than anyone else in town about all this stuff, and we're already on track to open the tomb."

"You still trust her even though she wanted to use you?" said Elena. There was a weird undercurrent to her question, but Jeremy didn't let that distract him.

"I do," said Jeremy. "And it was my idea to have her work with us directly instead of trying to be sneaky about it, because there was no way that wasn't going to backfire. She might be close to six hundred years old, but she's really just a kid who misses her mom, and she's terrified something could go wrong and she'll never see her again. We're her best shot."

There was a long pause. Elena was watching the adults instead of him now, which Jeremy took to mean that he'd won her over.

"If you're still not sure, she said she's willing to meet with Miss Sheila," said Jeremy, growing uncomfortable with the silence. "Something about how witches can sense a person's intentions."

Miranda and Jenna raised their eyebrows. When Jeremy looked at his dad again, he was surprised to find him smiling in an exasperated sort of way. "She's sitting on the porch waiting to find out how this goes, isn't she?"

Jeremy blinked. "Uh. Yeah."

Grayson got to his feet. "Care to introduce us?"

"Wait, so you'll do it? You'll help Anna get her mom back?"

"Not so fast," said Miranda, also standing up. "We're still going to have to have a private discussion about this later. This is all very unexpected and I'm not entirely convinced we shouldn't ground you for the rest of the summer. But for now, we'll meet her."

Jenna and Elena got up too. Jeremy frowned. "Uh, all of us hanging out on the porch might look weird to the neighbors."

"Good point," said Grayson. He turned to face the front of the house. "Would you be so kind as to pop around back?" he said loudly. Less than a second later, there was a tap on the back door.

X

Either the Gilberts were much better actors than most humans or Jeremy's plan had been a fabulous success. Anna stood a safe distance away from the back door of the house as they came filing out. Jeremy was first, and he immediately trotted over to her side, still shaky with nerves but happier than he had been on the front porch. His parents came next, not looking especially comfortable with his proximity to the strange vampire. This was the first time Anna had gotten a good look at Grayson Gilbert with her own eyes. His resemblance to the man who had turned on her mother didn't particularly endear him to her.

"Anna, this is my family," said Jeremy. "Everyone, this is Anna."

"My full name is Annabelle Zhu," said Anna. "At least, that's what it's been since I first came to the U.S. I doubt you have any record of me, but my mother might be a different story."

"She's Pearl, isn't she?" said Dr. Gilbert.

"Yes, sir," said Anna. She'd been pretending to be as young as she looked for so long that showing respect to her physical elders was almost automatic.

"Johnathan Gilbert mentioned she had a daughter, but never gave a name."

"I doubt your ancestor had many kind words to say about my mother," said Anna, "but it was only for what she is, not anything she did."

Dr. Gilbert's brow furrowed with something that might've been regret. Anna was reluctant to believe it was genuine.

"Then is everything our son told us true?" said Mrs. Gilbert.

"Yes, ma'am. The only thing I want is to get my mother back. If you can help me do that, any information or other help you may need from me is yours in return."

"What about...uh, your diet?" said the aunt.

"Human blood," Anna said, completely unapologetically. "But I always cover my tracks, and I don't kill people unless I have no choice." She could usually even find nonfatal methods of self-defense. It was a big part of how she stayed so far below the radar. Her lifestyle made her very few enemies and drew very little attention. The drawback was that she also rarely made allies...unless that was literally, by turning people. She'd been prepared to do that in Mystic Falls, but her compelled human and animal spies had sufficed up until now, and the Gilberts would probably be more effective at pretty much anything than volatile newbie vamp minions.

Dr. Gilbert nodded. "That's all I really need to know for now. Are you going to talk to the Salvatores next?"

Anna grimaced. She'd never particularly liked either of the Salvatore brothers. They'd both always seemed like idiots to her—part of a fairly wide circle of idiots who had fallen for Katherine Pierce. She also rather resented them for getting daylight rings right off the bat without doing anything to earn them when it had taken her and her mother centuries of hiding in the shadows before they'd been afforded the same luxury. Admittedly, she'd expected them to get staked within their first year as vampires, and yet here they still were, so maybe she hadn't given them enough credit. "I guess I probably should," she said. "When do you want me to talk to Sheila Bennett?"

"Sometime this weekend would be fine. I'll see if I can get her to drop by the clinic tomorrow during the blood drive. You could come then if you want." She nodded, but Dr. Gilbert kept looking at her contemplatively. Everyone else was looking at him, waiting for him to make some kind of decision. "I'm not sure how happy I am about Jeremy's involvement in this, but your willingness to be upfront says a lot in your favor. If we'd run into you some other way, I don't think it would've gone well."

"Agreed," said Anna. It seemed that Jeremy's strategy of being forthright and expecting the same from the other party was a good one.

"See you tomorrow, then," said Dr. Gilbert. He went back inside. So did the aunt. Mrs. Gilbert stayed put, as did Elena, who looked nervous about something. Anna's attention was drawn more to Mrs. Gilbert, however. She was frowning in a way that suggested she was waging some kind of internal battle.

"Is something wrong?" Anna asked.

"I'm sorry," said Mrs. Gilbert, hesitantly extending one hand out in front of her before drawing it back and putting it on Elena's shoulder instead. "It's just...you look the same age as my kids. Do you have a safe place to stay?"

"Ugh, _Mom_ ," Jeremy groaned. Anna, however, couldn't look away from Mrs. Gilbert's earnest face. As long as she'd been waiting to get her own mother back, she didn't think she'd ever missed her as painfully as she did at that moment. Jeremy didn't know how lucky he was.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Anna, throat a little tighter than usual.

"Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, you come find me, okay?" She turned and went back inside before Anna could reply.

"What are you still doing out here?" Jeremy asked his sister. Anna looked at her too. She was still standing on the back porch, hugging herself as if she was cold, even though it was an almost uncomfortably warm evening.

"I, uh, I kind of wanted to talk to Anna about something," said Elena, cheeks going red, not meeting either of their gazes. She looked upset.

"Like what?" said Jeremy.

"Just go inside," said Anna. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" She smiled at him. "You were amazing."

He looked from her to his sister and back, reached across the short distance between them to touch her hand, then hurriedly retreated into the house.

"So what's this about?" said Anna, curious. This girl really was an exact copy of Katherine, but she was so... _meek_. It was so odd it was almost creepy.

"Older vampires are more powerful than younger ones, aren't they?" Elena asked. Now that none of her family was watching, she appeared practically desperate.

"Yeah...," said Anna. "Why?"

"Powerful enough to undo compulsion done by a younger vampire?" Elena pressed.

"That's not really how compulsion works," said Anna.

"Oh," said Elena, and Anna was surprised by how crushed she looked. Another major difference between her and Katherine was how open she was with her emotions. "Thanks anyway." She turned to head back inside, shoulders slumped.

"Did someone compel you?" said Anna.

"Apparently," said Elena, turning back around, still hugging herself. "Based on my diary, my phone message history, and things people are saying, it seems that Damon Salvatore compelled me to forget ever meeting him."

Anna made a face. That pretty much confirmed her impression that he was an idiot. "Why the hell would he do that?"

"I don't know!" Elena burst out. She looked down. "Maybe I was in love with him, and I told him, but he didn't love me back, so he compelled me so that I wouldn't try to come between him and Katherine."

Well, if that was true, then Damon pretty much deserved to find out Katherine wasn't in the tomb only after he got inside it to rescue her. Maybe Anna wouldn't tell him that conniving _jiànhuò_ was free as a bird after all. But Elena's theory didn't really jive with what she'd observed via her many spies. Damon plainly cared a great deal for this girl. "Why don't you just go confront him about it?" Anna asked.

"Because," said Elena. "What if that really is why he did it? I'd rather get my memories back some other way, just in case."

"Maybe I could beat him up for you until he agrees to give them back," said Anna.

"No!" said Elena. "I don't want him to give them back because he was forced to. Either he has to decide on his own to give them back or I've gotta find a way to get them back myself. I asked my friend Bonnie to look for a spell that could do it."

"You should be careful," said Anna. "Spells are tricky, and they don't always work the way you think they will."

Elena shrugged. "I have to try." She gave a feeble smile. "It's nice to meet you, though."

"You too," said Anna, and she was surprised to discover that she meant it.

X

When Elena returned to her bedroom, she found that she had a missed call and a text from Bonnie on her phone. Her heart immediately sped up in excitement. She opened the text.

" _There's a spell in my ancestor's spellbook called 'To Bring Back That Which Was Forgotten' and the description is all about memories. Want to give it a try?"_

Elena thought about Anna's advice, but she still felt like this was a better plan than waiting for Damon to change his mind. She quickly typed out a response. " _Let's do it. I'll let you know when the coast is clear, and then you can come over."_

X

By the time Damon and Stefan called it a night, they had the entire schedule for the blood drive filled and Damon had cured at least a dozen people of needle phobias. They'd been using two separate sign-up sheets: one for the donors whose blood would go to the hospital, the other for the donors whose blood would go to the enormous freezer in the basement of the boarding house.

"So how did the date go with Blondie?" Damon asked when they were about two minutes away from home.

"Who said anything about a date?" said Stefan, but his tone was enough to confirm Damon's suspicions.

"No date? Then you've just decided to start wearing citrus flower perfume? Interesting choice. I'd have gone with freesia or jasmine."

"Shut up," said Stefan. "I met up with Caroline at the Grill this afternoon. Happy?"

"Considering that I only smell citrus flower and not blood, what shouldn't I be happy about, Stef?" said Damon, slapping his brother on the knee. "This is only your third day on human blood, and you've already made it four whole hours unsupervised without murdering anyone. New personal best?"

"What was it that Dr. Gilbert said about how regularly beating you up could work the rest of the toxin out of your system faster?" said Stefan.

"Oh, take it easy," said Damon. "I'm proud of you. Control is all about the baby steps."

"It doesn't feel like control," said Stefan, the angry sarcasm gone for the moment. "It feels like walking along the edge of a cliff with no balance. With every step, I fall down, but I never know if it'll be onto the ledge or over it."

Damon glanced at Stefan out of the corner of his eye. As much as he wanted to get Enzo out of that cell now that he knew he was still alive, he didn't feel great about the prospect of leaving Stefan to struggle with his cravings alone. Stefan was putting himself through this to save Damon's life. It was _not_ going to play out the way it had in 1912. "You gonna be okay if I have to run some errands with Miranda and Grayson tomorrow after the blood drive? We'll probably be gone most of the evening."

Fear flashed unmistakably in Stefan's eyes. "What errands?"

"If we pull off what we're going to try to pull off, I'll tell you about it when we get back," said Damon. And that was a daunting prospect on its own. This was the first time since his humanity came back on that Damon had really thought about how much he'd kept Stefan in the dark. Shining a light on that darkness wasn't going to be pleasant for either of them. He had some questions of his own, as well. Like how it was possible that Grayson had been able to save the baby of a dead pregnant woman after the massacre the day of the eclipse.

They pulled into the drive of the boarding house then, and the Camaro's headlights illuminated a black-haired girl sitting on the short stone wall in front of the entrance. Damon was immediately on high alert. He exchanged a look with Stefan as he parked. They got out of the car and walked towards the house. The girl slid off the wall and waited for them to approach, hands in the pockets of her black hoodie. She was Asian, slightly familiar-looking, and appeared to have expected them.

"Damon, Stefan," she said. "It's been a long time."

"How long are we talking?" said Damon, squinting at her.

"A hundred and forty-four years," said Stefan. "Hello, Annabelle."

"Annabelle," Damon repeated, frowning. "Pearl's daughter?"

"Yep," said the girl. "But it's just Anna now."

"That's nice for you," said Damon. "Doesn't explain what you're doing at our house."

"Dr. Gilbert suggested it, but I probably would've come anyway," said Anna, folding her arms. "I'm here to let you know that my application to join Team Gilbert is being processed. I hear the benefits are pretty good. Treatment for werewolf bites? Sign me up."

"You're hilarious," said Stefan. "Why would the Gilberts want you on the team?"

"Because unlike the two of you and the Bennetts, apparently, I actually know quite a lot about werewolves. I'm not about to let another generation of Lockwoods throw vampires under the bus to clear their own names. In return, since they're already helping you open the tomb anyway, I get my mom back."

"If you want the tomb open too, then why is this the first time you've made contact?" said Damon. "You had to know I'd try to get it open."

"Yeah, well, until it became clear you were actually working _with_ the Gilberts, I wasn't too confident in your ability not to screw things up," said Anna sweetly. "I planned to let you crash and burn as a diversion if I needed one. Looks like that won't be necessary."

"Great," said Stefan, while Damon's lip curled. "Welcome to the team. I'm going to bed." He strode past both of them and into the house.

"I had an interesting conversation with Elena Gilbert this evening," said Anna as Damon made to follow his brother.

He stiffened. "And?" he said through gritted teeth.

"She's a nice girl. She wanted to talk to me about compulsion, and how to break it. Seems like you did some sloppy work."

"Stay out of it," said Damon, stalking towards the door.

"She thinks you did it because she confessed feelings for you that you didn't return and you didn't want her getting between you and Katherine," said Anna, her tone still casual, but slightly louder. "Was she right?"

He froze, turning slowly to face her. She was examining the fingernails of one hand. She glanced up at him with the slightest hint of a smirk. Damon snapped, lunging at Anna at vamp-speed, seizing her by the throat, and slamming her against one of the pillars in front of the door. "You listen to me," he spat. "I've spent a good chunk of today catching hell for compelling Elena, and I've tolerated it _only_ because I happen to care the slightest bit about what my brother and Grayson and Miranda Gilbert think." _And because I probably deserved it_ , he failed to add. "But that does _not_ mean I'm going to take crap from some smug little brat who had nothing to do with it. Just because we're apparently on the same side doesn't mean you get to talk to me about Elena."

Dark eyes flashing, Anna reached up and grabbed the hand Damon had around her throat. With a startlingly inescapable grip, never breaking eye contact, she peeled his hand away. He both felt and heard multiple bones snap. He let out a cry of pain and surprise, but she wasn't done. She twisted his arm around so that he was forced to his knees. "If you think you can push me around because you had a bad day, you're wrong." She let go with enough force that he fell flat on his face. "I look forward to working with you." Then there was a rush of air, and she was gone.

X

"Are you sure allying with Anna is a good idea?" said Miranda as she and Grayson turned off the lights and got under the covers of their bed. "In one weekend, we'll be going from working with two vampires to four. And depending on how things go in September, her mom will make five."

"You're asking me if I think it's a good idea?" said Grayson, amused. "You were acting like you wanted to adopt her."

"It's the hormones, okay?" said Miranda, pouting. "She's just a kid, and she's all by herself. I can't help it if my maternal instincts are kicking in."

"She's older than our entire family and the Salvatore brothers combined," said Grayson, wrapping his arms around her. "Hardly a kid."

"I know that," said Miranda, rolling her eyes as she snuggled up to him, "but...do you ever wonder if someone who becomes a vampire that young ever really grows up?"

"It's what I've been wondering this week, with Stefan helping me with Damon's treatments. It kind of seems like they get stuck. Maybe that has something to do with hormones too. They probably stay at the same level they were at when the person turned... _forever_."

"Back to my question, though," said Miranda, before Grayson could get too distracted by another medical theory. " _Is_ this a good idea?"

"We can see what Sheila thinks, but yeah, I think it is. If Anna was being honest about not killing people, then it would be pretty extreme to kill her. And if killing her isn't a reasonable option, then why spurn a potential ally as powerful as her?"

Miranda smiled. "The Salvatore boys have softened you up."

"It's not just that," said Grayson. "If Anna were any other vampire's daughter, I'd probably be a lot more reluctant. But I've read Johnathan Gilbert's entries from before and after the Battle of Willow Creek at least a dozen times since Dad first showed me the journals. It always bothered me how he could go from wanting to court 'the lovely Miss Pearl' to remorselessly sending her to be burned alive. He wrote about it like she'd betrayed him, but not like burning her was a hard choice to make. Even before I met Enzo, part of me wondered why he didn't at least pause to find out more. He called her a demonic seductress in those later entries, but why was he so sure she wasn't sincere?"

"I've been thinking about what Jeremy said about the Lockwoods starting all the chaos in 1864," said Miranda. "Twenty-seven vampires—twenty eight, including Anna, and maybe there were more—all living unnoticed in Mystic Falls. If they're not killing, then why not just let them be? The Council has tried to protect the town from vampires for a century and a half, but do we know if they've _ever_ actually killed one? All they've ever succeeded at is convincing people the civilian deaths were 'animal attacks.' If they're so bad at fighting vampires, they should stop trying and actually work with the good ones instead. All this exclusive, secretive club crap—they never even found out about werewolves or witches, and maybe there's even more out there."

"Can you imagine the rest of the Council ever coming around to that point of view?" said Grayson.

Miranda didn't answer. She knew they never would. Aside from the fact that Richard Lockwood, the increasingly psychotic werewolf, was in charge, the Council had too much fear, mistrust, and unwillingness to change among its ranks. Many of these people were powerful in the community, and they would feel threatened by any kind of supernatural power they weren't wielding themselves, even if it was being used for their benefit. Miranda wasn't even sure she'd be able to convince Liz that the Gilbert family's new approach might be better for the town than the traditional way, and they'd been friends since before they started school. The whole thing made her want to pummel something. Instead she pulled Grayson's arms closer around herself, scowling in the darkness.

"Don't sulk," he said. "We'll just have to pull it off under all of their noses."

Miranda was getting closer to falling asleep. "Nearly six hundred years old," she muttered.

Grayson snickered. "You're going to grill her for info on all the eras she's lived through, aren't you?"

"Damn straight I am," said Miranda, yawning. "Her memories are like a historian's goldmine."

X

Saturday, July 11

By nine in the morning, Elena was the only one still at home. Her mom and aunt had gone out to do shopping, her dad was running the blood drive at his clinic, and Jeremy hadn't said where he was going but had simply ridden off on his bike. This all suited Elena perfectly, because she had a feeling she'd get some objections if anyone else knew what she was about to attempt.

Bonnie arrived at the house minutes after Elena sent her the all-clear text. Elena opened the door for her and was surprised to see her lugging her athletics bag. "Uh, what's with the bag?"

"That spell I found has a lot of ingredients," said Bonnie. "Like fifteen candles, bundles of sticks from specific species of trees, a few crystals, and a bowl of herbs. I'll be raiding your kitchen for some of those, by the way. Luckily I found everything else at Grams's place. She could seriously run a new age shop out of her cellar."

"Will there be enough space to set everything up in my room?"

"Should be," said Bonnie. They went upstairs to drop off the bag, then came back down so that Bonnie could find the herbs she needed.

"Has your grams been teaching you a lot of stuff about magic?" Elena asked.

"Oh yeah," said Bonnie. "I feel guilty for how long I treated her like a loony drunk. I've been spending more time at her place this summer than at home with Dad." She stood on tiptoe to reach the little jars of spices on the second shelf in the cupboard, turning the labels around and picking a few of them out.

"How does he feel about that?" said Elena. She knew Bonnie's dad and his ex-mother-in-law weren't each other's biggest fans.

"He's not happy, but now that I've come into my powers, he knows he can't keep me away from magic anymore."

"He wanted to keep you away from it?"

"He's the one who had me convinced Grams was nuts. He says magic is the reason Mom left."

"That's got to be rough for all three of you," said Elena.

"Yeah," said Bonnie. "But I'm not going to let her bad decisions affect the way I live my life." She looked at each of the jars she'd taken down. "Okay, this is everything. Let's get set up."

X

"Good morning, Sheriff," said Damon, opening the door of the boarding house wide and stepping aside to let her in.

"It's Damon, isn't it?" she said, extending a hand. "Liz Forbes."

"It's a pleasure to officially meet you, Liz," said Damon, shaking her hand. _Again_ , he thought. She looked better with short hair.

"What did you think of the meeting last week?"

"I don't know, it was only my first one," said Damon. "According to Carol Lockwood, they aren't usually that intense."

"Well, no," she said ruefully. "There hasn't been a reason for them to be in fifteen years." She glanced around at the entrance hall, her eyes stopping on the doorframe into the parlor. "Doing some renovations?"

Damon had, in fact, spent a couple of hours the previous night cleaning up the damage his body had done to that frame when Stefan hurled him through it. He'd removed all of the larger splinters and covered what remained in thick plastic. They'd have to get the whole thing replaced. "We try to keep as much of the original structure intact as we can," he said, "but there's always something to fix in a place like this. What did you need from me for your case?"

"Fingerprints, shoe size, and tire treads," said Liz.

"Want me to make you some coffee while you make a mold of the tire treads, or however that works?"

"I'd appreciate that, thank you."

"The car's out front," said Damon. "Be gentle with her."

Liz chuckled. "I'll do my best." She turned and headed back outside, while Damon went to the kitchen. He could hear Stefan up in his room. It sounded like he was pacing.

Once the coffee was ready, he took two mugs of it outside. Liz had just finished applying some kind of plaster to the front passenger tire of the Camaro. She straightened up and accepted the coffee gratefully. "Mmm, much better than what comes out of the machine at the station," she said after one sip.

"Does that need to set or something?" said Damon, pointing at the plaster.

"For a few minutes." They went back inside, where she took Damon's fingerprints and he retrieved a pair of shoes for her. As soon as he handed them over, she checked the size and frowned.

"What was that look about?" said Damon. "Am I your Cinderella?"

"Actually no," she said. "The footprints I'm trying to match were half a size smaller."

"You seem disappointed," he said jokingly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't mean to. You're just the one on the Council I know the least about. It's not that I wanted you to be the culprit, it's just..."

"It'll be much more of an uphill battle to convince the other members that the killer is someone they trust than if it was the new guy?" Damon guessed.

"Exactly," she said, looking a bit tired.

"Well, is there anything else I can do?" said Damon. "How's the vervain supply?"

"Mostly used up, but since the killer wasn't a vampire, it's not really as crucial to have it on hand as we thought."

"I guess we got off lucky, then," he said, trying not to let his displeasure show. He couldn't really press the issue of vervain without it seeming weird, but he'd feel a lot better about his plans for the evening if he knew Blondie's blood was still toxic to vampires. Then again, vervain wasn't the _only_ safeguard available. "You're Caroline's mom, aren't you?" he asked. Upstairs, the sound of Stefan's footsteps abruptly stopped.

"Yes," said Liz, handing him back the empty coffee mug and gathering up the materials she'd used to take his fingerprints. "Why?"

"Because I think she and my brother are dating."

Liz raised her eyebrows. "Your brother is Stefan, right?"

"Has Caroline mentioned him?"

"I definitely heard her say the name a few times a while ago, but she's been pretty evasive about telling me which boy she had plans with this week." She gave Damon a look that was almost menacing, except for the twinkle in her eye. "Do I need to advise your brother that I have a gun and am not above assigning deputies to tail minors?"

Damon laughed. "I don't think that'll be necessary. Our parents raised us to be gentlemen. Didn't have much of an impact on me, but you shouldn't have anything to worry about with Stefan."

X

"I don't really know anything about magic," said Elena, looking at the instructions for the spell in the old, heavy spellbook Bonnie had brought, "but this seems kind of complicated. Are you sure you're ready for a spell like this?"

"Last week, I definitely wouldn't have been," said Bonnie, now nearly done setting up all the equipment. "Grams has mostly been teaching me theory so that I'd be better prepared as my power grew, but ever since I put this amulet on," she fingered the amber crystal hanging from her neck, "the learning curve has been insane. Grams told me it belonged to Emily Bennett, the same one who wrote this spellbook."

"That's the crystal Damon gave me that I gave you, right?" said Elena.

Bonnie paused in placing the final candle to frown at her. "You don't remember that?"

"I remember that I somehow had the crystal and then gave it to you," said Elena. "I know the rest from my diary."

Bonnie's expression grew determined. "You'd better slap Damon once you get your memories back. You ready to do this?"

"Yes I am," said Elena.

They sat cross-legged inside the circle of candles. Elena was sitting inside a smaller circle outlined by the bundles of sticks, and the bowl of herbs and the crystals were on the floor between them. Elena gave Bonnie the spellbook back, and she held it open on her lap. She was about to ask if they needed to light the candles when Bonnie closed her eyes, clutched the amulet, and muttered, " _Incendia_." All fifteen of them lit. Bonnie peeked at Elena with one eye, grinning. Elena grinned back. "Okay, give me your hands and close your eyes."

X

Around noon, Jeremy sat in what was becoming his usual booth at the Grill, picking at his bacon cheese fries with far less enthusiasm than normal. He didn't feel like sketching or even reading the old journal his dad had handed him over breakfast.

At last, Anna slid into the other side of the booth. She looked agitated, and Jeremy's heart sank. "Did Miss Sheila—"

Anna broke out into a grin. "She passed me," she said.

Jeremy swatted her lightly on the arm. "Don't do that! I was kinda freaking out. So what happened?"

"She just shook my hand and held onto it for a few extra seconds with her eyes closed. Then she thanked me for my part in protecting Emily Bennett at the beginning of the Civil War. Emily and her brother had been arrested in Atlanta as runaway slaves, and she almost had her children taken from her. I offered to tell Sheila everything I remembered about Emily, and she told your dad to trust his instincts about me. Shockingly, that was a good thing." Anna pulled the fry basket closer to her side and started picking out the longest ones. "You could've come with me, you know. Moral support, and all that."

"I didn't want to overdo it," said Jeremy. "But I'll buy you a banana split to celebrate." He frowned, watching her eat more of his fries. "Do you actually like food?"

"I love it!" said Anna, cheeks still partially full of fry. "Everything that would've tasted bad to me as a human tastes worse, but everything that tasted good tastes better. The only thing that's really different is blood. And that I can eat junk food constantly if I want to and never gain weight."

Chuckling, Jeremy flagged down a waitress and ordered the banana split. She came back out with it a few minutes later, and Anna abandoned the mostly-empty basket of fries in favor of the mountain of banana, ice cream, and chocolate syrup. Appetite restored and fry basket refilled, Jeremy ate in silence with her for a few minutes. She had just raised the spoon to her mouth again when she froze and peered over the top of the booth towards the entrance.

"What's up?" said Jeremy.

"Tyler Lockwood just came in."

X

Bonnie shut the front door rather harder than was necessary. For the fiftieth time, she went over the steps of the spell again in her head. She hadn't done a single thing wrong. The candles had flared when she finished the incantation and a rush of power had seemed to go out of her and into Elena. It had even made both their hair stand on end for a few seconds. But Elena still had no memories of Damon Salvatore. Bonnie was going to have to read through the spell again after her afternoon shift at the pool.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Frowning, she set her duffel bag down and pulled it out. She had a text from an unknown number.

" _Baby Witch,_

 _Need to talk. You gonna be at your house for the next little while?_

 _Damon Salvatore"_

X

The first half of the blood drive was over, and Grayson and Meredith were spending the forty-five minutes until the afternoon donors started arriving eating their lunches in the break room. It reminded Grayson of the years he'd worked at Mystic Falls General. Except that he wasn't dead on his feet from working insane hours.

"When do you go back on call?" he asked between bites of his sandwich.

"Not until tomorrow night," said Meredith, popping one of the cherry tomatoes from her salad into her mouth whole. "Why?"

"What would I have to do to persuade you to spend your time off on a highly risky rescue mission at Whitmore College?"

Meredith raised one eyebrow. "Okay, I didn't think you were ever going to surprise me more than when you told me you had a voluntary vampire blood donor. Who would I be helping rescue, and from what?"

"An _in_ voluntary vampire blood donor, from the Augustine Society." Grayson knew Meredith's great-uncle Tobias had offered her a spot in the Society, because after she'd opted to go to medical school somewhere other than Whitmore, he'd referred her over to him instead for that part of her "education."

Meredith made a face. "Those psychos are still pulling that crap? No offense."

"It's not like I wouldn't deserve it if you meant it," said Grayson. "Damon and I had a conversation after his treatment yesterday." The exact circumstances of that conversation, he was keeping to himself. He hadn't even told Miranda that Damon had tied him up and threatened to kill him. "He used to be one of their test subjects too, and his cellmate is the same vampire I worked on while I was in med school. He's still there."

"If you think getting him out is a good idea, then why did you wait this long?"

"I should have gotten him out over a decade ago. I promised him I would. Why I didn't is a long, complicated story, but he's not the villain of it. So what do you say?"

She snorted. "You know I'm in."

X

Tyler looked around for a second when he stepped inside the Grill. He spotted that homeschooled girl Jeremy Gilbert had been sitting with when Tyler came in with his dad on Wednesday to talk to Coach Tanner. He couldn't see the face of the person she was sitting across from today, but he had spiky brown hair like Gilbert, and it was the same booth. He headed over.

"Hey, Lockwood. What are you doing here?" said Gilbert.

Tyler looked from him to the girl, then back again. "I need to talk to you."

"I'm gonna go use the bathroom," said the girl. "You can have the rest of this." She pushed a half-finished banana split across the table, then slid out of the booth.

Tyler took her place, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. All the booths around this one were empty and the other patrons seemed pretty involved in their own conversations.

"What's this about?" said Gilbert around a bite of ice cream.

"I remember what you and that new guy said to me at the Fourth of July party," said Tyler. Gilbert raised his eyebrows, chewing in a rather skeptical fashion. Tyler scowled. "You were asking me about Vicki and my dad, and then the new guy sprouted fangs and threatened to kill me if I didn't tell him what I knew, because he's a vampire."

"He wasn't going to kill you, he was just trying to get information," said Gilbert. "But why would you want to talk to me if you remember that?"

"Because you apparently know something about my dad. I didn't want to go straight to the Sheriff about the crap he's been pulling because it's...complicated now. You were the only other option I could think of."

The girl suddenly came back from the bathroom, and she slid into the booth, bumping Tyler farther in with a surprising amount of force. "Hey, what the hell?"

"Anna...you came back really fast," said Gilbert pointedly.

"Oh, please," she said. "I'm not hiding in the bathroom while you two beat around the bush for the next five minutes. Besides, you said he deserved my help even though he's a Lockwood. This is me helping."

"Helping with what?" said Tyler. Then something else occurred to him. "Wait, you could hear us from in there?"

"Of course I could," said Anna mockingly, making a face at him. "I'm a vampire."

Tyler tried to back farther away from her, but there wasn't any more space left in the booth. "Jesus, Gilbert, are all your friends vampires?" he said in a harsh whisper.

"We know you and your dad are werewolves," said Anna. "Is that why it's complicated?"

Tyler froze. Maybe it had been stupid not to go straight to the Sheriff after all.

"Your dad transformed into a wolf on Tuesday night, came to my house, and tried to murder my dad," said Gilbert calmly. "Then, on Thursday, he went to the school to talk to Coach Tanner, probably about your spot on the football team. It didn't go well. That wasn't barbecue meat you smelled after you lit that campfire."

"That was Coach Tanner?" said Tyler hoarsely. Gilbert and Anna nodded gravely. Tyler's head and hands felt cold, and stomach churned. "I'm think I'm gonna be sick."

Anna shot out of the booth and she and Gilbert followed him as he made a run for the bathroom. He reached a toilet just in time to expel the entire contents of his stomach into it. There was no escaping this now. Everything in that journal was true. He was really a werewolf. Come the next full moon, he was going to go through what George Lockwood had written about. And it was all because of his dad. He remembered the man's face after he had lit the fire, and when he'd fallen down in that cellar. His dad had _wanted_ this. Tyler had lived in fear of his dad's temper his whole life. He didn't fight back because he knew it would only make it worse. But this? He did _not_ get to do this to him and get away with it.

Jeremy and Anna were waiting for him when he came out of the bathroom. "You okay, man?" said the former.

"Hell no," said Tyler. He clenched his fists. "But making my dad pay for what he's done to me, Vicki, and Tanner would be a start. So how do we do that?"

"Carefully," said Jeremy. "My parents and aunt are trying to lead the Sheriff in the right direction. And the Salvatores are helping. Stefan Salvatore is the vampire from the Fourth of July party."

"I overheard my mom talking to the Sheriff about vampires yesterday. Does that mean they already know?"

"Not exactly," said Anna, "and you can't tell them about me or the Salvatores, or it'll ruin the case against the Mayor."

"Why would it do that?" said Tyler, frowning.

"Because they're part of this council that hunts vampires whether they're good or bad, and they don't even know werewolves exist," said Jeremy. "If the Council hears there are vampires in town, it'll undo all the work my parents have done to unmask the real killer."

"But you guys—you know about werewolves," said Tyler, suddenly eager. What if there was a way out? "Is there a way to undo it? I didn't kill anyone on purpose; I didn't even know what was happening. This can't be my life now. There's got to be a way to take it back."

"There's not," said Anna quietly. "I'm sorry."

Tyler fell back against the wall of the hallway in defeat.

"We can still help you get through it," said Jeremy. "No one should have to face that alone."

Tyler looked at them both. They meant it. The weird loner guy and the scary vampire chick really wanted to help him. "Okay," he said. "Just let me know what I need to do."

X

When Damon pulled up to the address he would've picked Elena up from had their big band swing plans not been thwarted, Bonnie was already waiting for him outside, wearing Emily's crystal and a disapproving frown. He hadn't expected to get an invitation out of her, but it was still irritating how blatant she was being about that.

"Only old people text like they're writing letters, you know," she said once he was out of his car.

"I was born in 1840," said Damon in a tone that suggested she was being obtuse. "I am an old person."

"You also aren't as pale as you were the last time I saw you," she said. "I guess the treatment Elena's dad came up with is working."

"Still with the comments on my skin color?" said Damon. "We've talked about this."

"Yeah, about that," said Bonnie. "Didn't you, like, _personally_ own slaves when you were human?"

"Technically my father was the one who owned them," said Damon, making a face halfway between a smile and a grimace, "but touché."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and folded her arms. "What did you want to meet with me about? Because I'm gonna tell you right now, if it has nothing to do with fixing what you did to Elena's memory, then I'm not interested."

"Oh I think you'll be interested," said Damon. "Elena's not your only friend."

Bonnie's brow furrowed. "Do you mean Caroline? Is this about her and your brother?"

"Ding ding ding!" said Damon. "Stefan's on human blood as part of Grayson's mad science werewolf venom cure. It's a genius solution, but with one major drawback: Stefan's not used to drinking human blood. He never learned how to control his cravings, so historically, indulging them has ended in lots of carnage. We've managed to avoid that so far this time around, but it's probably not the wisest time for him to start dating."

Bonnie looked horrified. "Then why are you letting him do it? Caroline just thinks he's some hot guy, but he could kill her!"

Damon gave her a look like she was being melodramatic just because he knew it would annoy her. "I didn't stop it because a) watching Stefan react to her advances has been hilarious and b) until now, I've been able to keep an eye on him. Which is what I plan to _keep_ doing, but in a few hours, I'll be going out of town until late tonight, and the majority of Mystic Falls' most competent adults will be going with me. Since you're all powered up with Emily's crystal, you're my first choice for someone to take him down if anything happens."

"Take him down?" said Bonnie, hand rising to clench around the aforementioned crystal.

"I'm sure Granny Witch has already taught you that fun brain-melting spell she did on me in May. _If_ anything happens, I want you to do that to Stefan until he's on the ground." He held up a pair of vervain syringes he'd swiped from Grayson's lab after the first treatment. "Then, stick him with one of these to keep him down. If you can, try to lock him in the cellar of the boarding house or the cell in the basement of Grayson's clinic. If not, the vervain should keep him down long enough for me to get back, and you can use the second syringe as insurance."

Bonnie took the syringes, looking like she was struggling to process the weight of the responsibility he was giving her after most of their interactions had consisted mainly of him being deliberately obnoxious. "Why not just knock him out and lock him up now if you're so sure he'll lose control?"

"I'm not _sure_ he'll lose control," said Damon. "And considering how fragile his confidence is, treating that like a foregone conclusion will probably make it true. But it's better to be overprepared than to come home to a bloodbath. Do you think you can handle this?"

"For Caroline, I'm willing to try," she said. "How am I supposed to move him if I have to knock him out, though?"

Damon grimaced. "There's a new vampire on the team. Heard about her yet?"

"Grams told me," said Bonnie. "Anna, right?"

"I'll text you her number. I'd rather not have to owe her anything, but she can do the heavy lifting if it comes to that."

* * *

Not a ton of progress yet with Elena's memory loss situation, but come on, that was a huge screw-up on Damon's part; it's not just going to get fixed immediately. Also there are kind of a lot of other plotlines to deal with. I didn't expect Jeremy and Anna to move so quickly with introducing her to Team Gilbert, but ultimately I think this was the best time to do it. The longer Jeremy waited, the more it would look like he had lied to his family by not telling them sooner. Also, the Gilberts officially trust Damon and Stefan AND are about to go attempt to spring Enzo from Whitmore. They are at the most pro-vampire they'll probably ever be. And finally, this week in the story has been one of unprecedented teamwork and trust between the adults and the kids in the Gilbert family. Any other week, I think Grayson and Miranda would've done what most parents would've done if their fourteen-year-old had tried to persuade them to become allies with a dangerous unknown quantity: assume the kid is acting irrationally and steamroll right over him. So yeah. Welcome to the team, Anna! That doesn't mean it'll be entirely harmonious, though, because where would be the fun if she didn't still get to break a few of Damon's bones every once in a while? Bonnie and Tyler are also interesting to me. In this version of events, Bonnie still had a pretty traumatic introduction to the existence of magic and vampires, but it was much more empowering than canon and avoided painting Damon as the villain. So while she finds him irritating (because he's being irritating), she doesn't have any of the reasons to hate him that she had in the show. I feel like that really crippled their character development in a few places and set Bonnie at odds with most of the other characters in ways that made a lot of fans dislike her and a lot of other fans think the other characters were being jerks. Let's have none of that nonsense. Same with Tyler, basically. In canon, he ends up on the same team as the "good" guys only after they've told him lots of lies and murdered his uncle. I hate that so much, because, similar to Bonnie's situation (and, heck, Caroline's too, to an extent), the fact that Tyler kind of brushed off Mason's death and remained allies with his killer makes no sense at all. I like it when characters have conflicting beliefs and motivations, but it's extremely irritating when it's all based on misunderstandings or lies, or when those conflicting beliefs and motivations get shoved to the side because they're inconvenient. All of this considered, dealing with Alaric when he shows up is going to be very interesting.


	4. The Augustine Job

Dangit, I missed March by one day. Sorry about that. I would've finished on time, except that an unexpected freelance copywriting job landed in my lap with a very tight deadline. Also, as I was writing, I realized I needed quite a few more scenes than I thought for everything to work. But here it is! Enjoy!

* * *

"Well I feel underdressed," said Damon as he entered Grayson's office in the clinic for the planning session, only to find that Grayson, Miranda, Jenna, and Meredith were all dressed for a cocktail party.

"It won't be a problem," said Grayson. He gestured Damon closer, and as he approached, Damon saw that they were all looking at a hand-drawn but rather thorough map of Whitmore House. He noticed immediately that the floorplan was different from what it had been when he was there; they must've rearranged things when they rebuilt it after the fire.

"Believe it or not, a hundred and sixty-nine years alive, and this will actually be my first heist," said Damon, rubbing his hands together.

"Except that you won't be the one pulling off the heist part," said Miranda.

"What?" said Damon. "Why the hell not?"

"Well, if you can think of a way to get an invitation from one of the two surviving residents, both of whom are sure to be on vervain and probably have a blanket policy against verbally inviting anyone inside...," said Grayson dryly.

Damon's expression went flat. There was really no way of getting around that. "And that's why my street clothes are okay. Fine. Dibs on getaway car driver, then."

"Not with your car, though," said Miranda. Damon opened his mouth to protest again, but she cut him off, "It stands out too much. Whatever you drive needs to look like any other car coming and going from campus. It can't be memorable." Even though that was also a good point, Damon was annoyed by how much vindictive pleasure Miranda was taking in ruining all his fun. She clearly still hadn't forgiven him for the memory wipe thing.

"Guess that means the Mini's out too," said Jenna.

"My car'll work," said Meredith.

"Why?" said Damon sourly. "Is it a beater?"

"It's a 2000 model Chrysler," said Meredith with a slight scowl. "Are you too good to drive that?" She looked at Jenna instead of waiting for his reply. "Guess I'll be riding back with you, then?" She offered a tentative smile.

"Should give us some time to catch up," said Jenna, grinning, and Meredith instantly looked relieved. It seemed this mission might be reviving more old friendships than Damon had realized.

"What's the plan?" he asked, feeling grumpy.

"It's not too complicated," said Grayson. He pointed to his map. "The entrance to the lab is hidden here, behind a bookcase in the study on the south side of the house. The other guests at the alumni dinner shouldn't have any reason to go into that study in the first place, but Miranda, Jenna, and I will distract anyone who seems like they might be heading in that direction. Meredith never went to Whitmore, so she won't be missed if she's the one to actually go down into the lab."

"Uncle Tobias has been trying to get me to go to one of these Whitmore events with him for years," said Meredith. "He already asked me to go to this one with him, so he was thrilled when I changed my mind and accepted. He'll probably spend at least an hour introducing me to people, but after that, I should be able to slip away."

"Where do you want me?" said Damon.

"You'll wait outside window of the study," said Grayson. "The driveway sweeps around that side of the house, so you can have the car there ready, and it's pretty well obscured from view. Once Meredith gets Enzo up to the main floor, he can exit through the window and you can leave with him while the rest of us stay. The goal is for you not to be seen at all by anyone at the party and for the rest of us to be seen pretty continuously."

"Sounds simple enough," said Jenna. "Let's do it."

X

Stefan _could_ ask Caroline to reschedule. There was no reason to have this heart-to-heart while Damon was out of town, but there were many, _many_ reasons to wait. Or to just not do it at all. He'd dated human girls before, but he'd never told them what he was. And for that matter, Lexi had never advised him to do so before. Being with Lee must have changed her perspective, because she used to be all about partying and taking gleeful advantage of being powerful and immortal. As long as no one lost control and no humans got hurt, she did whatever she wanted and encouraged Stefan to do the same.

But even if she was singing a different tune than usual, she definitely had a point. Usually, with those human girls, at the first sign that they suspected he might not be entirely normal, he had broken things off and left town. He'd never taken the risk of confiding in them. Now that he thought about it, he'd never gotten especially close to any of them. How could he, when he wouldn't let them in? At that realization, he felt a powerful ache in his chest. It struck him that it was a very lonely way to go about immortality. Had it ever really been necessary?

He thought about the Gilberts. The whole family knew what he and Damon were, but they hadn't betrayed them to the town, even before they decided they could trust them. Maybe this really was a risk worth taking. It was obviously far too early to know if Caroline was the sort of girl he could have a meaningful relationship with, but he could at least test out this honesty concept with her. And as to the risk of spending time alone with an attractive human while on his new human blood diet...well, he'd had a few bags of A- from the blood drive today. He'd been able to stop himself from chugging the entire supply, so he could probably stop himself from attacking Caroline. But he still didn't think they should have their conversation at the boarding house where they really would be completely alone.

He pulled out his phone. " _Can you meet me on the bleachers at the high school football field?"_ he typed. " _Around 7?_ "

Her reply, as usual, was almost immediate. " _See you there!_ "

X

Damon sat in the passenger seat of Meredith's car. On the back seat was a cooler full of fresh packets of whole blood from the blood drive, and the trunk contained a large bag of medical equipment, just in case. The first twenty minutes or so of the drive to Whitmore had been silent, with nothing breaking the monotony but trees and fields whipping past. Damon had been preoccupied with his own thoughts...Elena's memories, Enzo's situation, Grayson's past, Stefan's control issues, that little brat Anna, and Richard Lockwood and his victims. His life had gotten far more complicated than he had expected when he was lying on that road that night in May.

"So what was the deal with you and Jenna?" he said. He wasn't particularly interested in the answer, but talking about someone else's issues was better than remaining aboard his own train of thought.

"Huh?" said Meredith.

"You acted like you didn't think she'd be happy to have you in the car with her for the ride home."

"Oh," she said. She shot him a bemused glance. "Why do you care?"

"It's a two hour drive," said Damon.

Meredith rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the road. "Fine. Jenna and I were best friends as kids, but we haven't really had much contact for the last...wow, ten years."

"Why not?"

"I kinda set her up with my cousin Logan, and then it didn't go well. He cheated on her, and I convinced her to give him a second chance." Damon winced. So did Meredith. "Then he cheated again."

"He sounds like a tool."

"He is," said Meredith. "And I was too. I didn't really think he was going to be a better boyfriend, I just liked the idea of them being together because it made her even more like family than she already was. If I'd had a brother, I probably would've shoved her at him instead. The last time I saw her, she'd just found out about the other girl Logan was screwing, and she came to see me, royally pissed. She got confrontational, and she asked me why I thought it would be different. I couldn't really give her a satisfying answer, and it turned into a fight, which culminated in me yelling that Logan was still better than most of the trash she dated."

Damon let out a low whistle. "Damn."

"I didn't mean it. I was pissed at Logan too. He'd made a liar out of me by cheating again after I vouched for him, but I wasn't nearly as angry at him as she was, and he was still my cousin, so I got defensive. I never should've said that to her. She left town after that. I found Logan and punched him in the face. He had to wait an extra week to start his newscaster job because of the shiner I gave him."

"He's on the Founders' Council, isn't he?"

"Yeah. He's way more invested in it than I am. He likes to talk a big game about what he'd do if a vampire ever crossed his path, but he's more interested in being a local celebrity than a vampire hunter." She glanced at Damon again. "It's your turn to talk now. What can you tell me about this Enzo guy I'm going to be rescuing?"

X

Instead of heading home after her shift at the pool, Bonnie went to Grams's house. They had another evening of magic studies ahead of them. She found Grams waiting for her in the sitting room with spellbooks, iced tea, and a raised eyebrow. Crap. She'd been caught.

"I wasn't sure you were going to show up today," said Grams.

"Why wouldn't I?" said Bonnie, slowly sliding her bag off her shoulders and sitting down.

"Oh, maybe because you've been casting spells from Emily's spellbook," said Grams mildly. "Did you think I wouldn't notice all those ingredients going missing?"

Bonnie tried to fight off the feelings of guilt. "I was just trying to help Elena," she said. "Damon erased all of her memories of him, and there's a spell in Emily's spellbook that I thought might fix it."

"You should let Damon fix his own mistakes. He's plenty old enough to know better. Memory spells are complicated and unpredictable."

"I know," said Bonnie grumpily. "It didn't work."

"Oh I didn't say that," said Grams. "If you have the right materials, say the right words, and have enough power, you can make just about any spell work. This isn't a question of what you _can_ do, it's a question of what you _should_ do."

The guilt was back. "I just wanted to help," she said in a small voice.

"I know you did, baby," said Grams, getting up and walking around the coffee table to sit beside Bonnie on the couch. "You're a good girl. Your first instinct is always to help others. Your friends are lucky to have you in their lives. But when it comes to magic, you have to be a little selfish. Wearing that amulet makes you more powerful than most witches, and your own power is growing, but raw power doesn't make up for experience. You could still overdo it and get yourself hurt."

"Like Mom did," said Bonnie.

Grams' expression was one of pain and weariness. "That's right. I don't want to lose you the same way I lost her. I'm not gonna tell you to stop casting spells. Bottling up your magic won't do you any good either, but you've got to be honest with me about spells you're thinking of casting so that I can make sure you're prepared, okay?"

"Okay, Grams," said Bonnie with a tentative smile. It faded quickly, however. "How can you be so sure that the memory spell worked? Elena still didn't have her memories back."

X

Grayson, Miranda, and Jenna arrived at Whitmore House several minutes ahead of Meredith and Damon. That was part of the plan. Meredith was supposed to look like she was there as her uncle's guest, not theirs. Grayson hadn't set foot inside this house in nearly fifteen years, but it looked like not much had changed. The surviving Whitmores would likely be displeased to know how similar their taste in decorating ran to that of the vampire who'd slaughtered the rest of the family. Once this rescue operation succeeded, Grayson planned to have a conversation with Damon about a less bloody way to make sure the Augustine Society closed up shop for good than continuing to kill Whitmores.

"Grayson!" said a delighted voice to his right. Wes Maxfield was making his way towards them. He stuck out his hand to shake Grayson's. "I haven't seen you at one of these events in a while. I have some research I'd like to discuss with you."

"Of course," said Grayson. "I don't think you've met my wife Miranda or her sister Jenna," he added, gesturing to each Sommers sister in turn.

"I believe I have seen you around campus," said Wes to Jenna, taking her hand and kissing the back instead of shaking it.

"I'm glad to know I made an impression," said Jenna with a grin and curtsey. Grayson felt he should probably be worried about how good of an actress she was, but between research talk and Jenna's flirting, he felt very confident in their chances of keeping Wes away from the lab.

"Dr. Maxfield!" Tobias Fell was approaching with Meredith in tow. "I'd like you to meet my niece, Dr. Meredith Fell. Oh, hello Grayson, Miranda," he added on spotting them. He turned back to Wes. "Meredith actually completed her residency at Mystic Falls General under the guidance of Dr. Gilbert here."

"You must be one of the best doctors on their staff, then," said Wes. "There's no better mentor than Grayson."

X

Liz sat back in her desk chair, running both hands hard over her face. On the desk in front of her lay two items: a photo of one of the footprints from the woods, and the right insole of a shoe belonging to Mayor Richard Lockwood. It was a perfect match. He was the werewolf. She'd known Richard her whole life. He definitely had a nasty temper and was a bit narcissistic, but he was a capable mayor and always seemed to have the town's best interests at heart. Was he really a monster? And, more importantly, a killer? She didn't know anything about werewolves, but this wasn't her first homicide case. That part might be easier to deal with.

She opened a drawer and pulled out the stack of high-res photos she'd taken of the blood-encrusted rock she'd found in the woods near where Vicki's body was discovered. There had been one partial fingerprint in the blood on the rock, and she'd been comparing it against sets of all the Council members' prints. Richard could dodge her all he wanted; she knew he had a concealed carry permit, which meant she had his fingerprints on file already. She headed to the file room, found the drawer with all the gun owners' paperwork, and leafed through the labels until she reached Lockwood, R. She pulled it out and took it back to her desk.

Once she was comparing Richard's fingerprints to the one on the rock, it didn't take long before foreboding increased to certainty. It was a match for part of his right thumbprint. How were Miranda and Grayson going to react to this? Liz knew Grayson and Richard had been rivals pretty much forever, but this meant Richard was willing to make an attempt on Grayson's life. A partial fingerprint and a footprint unrelated to Vicki's death might be enough to convince her and the Gilberts of what he was and what he'd done, but she doubted they would be enough for the Council or a jury. The rock wasn't even the murder weapon; it only proved that Richard was there when Vicki died. What made matters more complicated was that Brian Walters' official report on Vicki's death still listed the cause of death as an animal attack. Liz had kept her entire investigation off the books while she narrowed down her pool of Council suspects, and Judge Hopkins wasn't going to give her an arrest warrant unless it was official, let alone a search warrant to find more evidence.

She was about to pick up the phone to call Brian Walters about changing the report when the deputy working the front desk poked his head into her office. "There's a young man here to see you, Ma'am."

"Send him in," she said, and quickly gathered up all the papers strewn over her desk (and the insole) and stuffed them into a drawer.

A few seconds later, Tyler Lockwood walked in. He had his hands shoved into his pockets, but there was a determined look on his face. "I know some stuff about what happened to Vicki Donovan, and I'd like to make a statement."

X

Nearly everyone at the alumni dinner seemed to want a word with Grayson and Miranda. Meredith was a little annoyed that it was even called a dinner, because it was really more of a "wander around and mingle while occasionally snagging hors d'ouvres and glasses of champagne from roving waiters with trays" affair. She planned to persuade Jenna to stop at a burger place on the way back. As far as the plan was going, though, just like she predicted, Uncle Tobias ran out of people to introduce her to within an hour. The last pair were the actual residents of the house: Sarah Whitmore, dean of the college, and her nephew Aaron, who looked high school age and extremely reluctant to be there. Meredith finally managed to slip away when some of Sarah's administrative colleagues came over and distracted her and Tobias.

She found the study with the hidden entrance to the lab quite easily after that. Carefully closing the door behind her (no one was in the adjacent hallway), she hurried over to the window, through which Damon was staring intently at her from outside in the flowerbed. She unlatched the window and pushed it open.

"It's about time," he said.

"It's exactly when I thought it would be when I got to this part," said Meredith.

"Yeah, well I hate waiting. I should be the one in there."

"Enzo will be on your side of the window soon enough," said Meredith. She slid the window closed again—a sudden draft in the house might cause suspicion (and Damon was being annoying), but it was good to know it could be easily opened.

Pressing in the sliding bookcase and moving it aside made her feel like she was in a live-action game of _Clue_ , and that was when she hit the first snag in the plan. Instead of a keyhole like Grayson had described, the plain gray door in front of her had a digital card reader built into the handle. "Crap," she said. She quickly pulled out her phone.

X

Jeremy and Anna were sitting in the young adult section of the library when Tyler came back from the Sheriff's office. They'd decided it was probably a safer place to meet than the Grill, since the Mayor was far less likely to want a book than a beer. "Well?" said Jeremy. "How'd it go?"

"I did what you guys said," said Tyler. He sat down in one of the chairs. "I told her everything I knew about the night Vicki died, from Dad catching us in my car to me finding her phone in his desk drawer the next day."

"Good," said Anna.

"How did she react?" said Jeremy.

"She thanked me for being willing to come forward, but she didn't seem very surprised."

"Maybe the evidence was already pointing to him," said Anna.

Tyler got back up, pacing around in a very agitated way. "I don't know. Why couldn't I just tell her what I knew about Tanner too?"

"My dad thinks the information needs to come from lots of different places to make it more convincing," said Jeremy. "And this isn't just about making sure he gets held responsible for killing Vicki and Coach Tanner, it's also about convincing the Council he's a werewolf, but we don't want them knowing you're one too, so the less evidence against him comes directly from you, the better."

"Okay," said Tyler, sitting down again but looking annoyed. "What do we do next?"

"We wait," said Anna. "It's the Sheriff's move now."

X

Grayson nearly spat out his mouthful of champagne when he saw Meredith's text that the security on the door to the lab had been upgraded. He thought he'd taken precautions against every possible setback. They'd even checked for cameras when they got inside the house, but the only one they'd found was on the door, and while there was a home security system installed, it wasn't active during the party. Grayson hadn't even thought about how something as small as the key might turn out to be an obstacle.

Miranda sidled up to him through the crowd and passed him a plate of éclairs. He accepted it, glad for an opportunity to communicate face-to-face. "This just got a lot harder," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "I might be able to lure Maxfield to the study so I can knock him out and steal his key card, but—"

"That won't be necessary," said Miranda, smiling and nodding politely at one of the other guests walking past them.

"What? Why?" said Grayson, frowning.

"Jenna's handling it," said Miranda, taking a sip from her flute of sparkling cider. "Who could have guessed that some of the skills she picked up during her rebel phase would've ever come in handy?"

X

Since Bonnie's departure, Elena's Saturday had passed very listlessly. She was still the only one home, and it was difficult to focus on any kind of activity because she kept waiting for her memories to come back. She alternated between rereading her journal entries and texts for the dozenth time and obsessively cleaning various rooms in the house, but no memories resembling her journal entries ever struck her. No mental images of amazing crystal blue eyes, no flashes of past decades, no sparring or swing dancing. Nothing. Maybe she shouldn't have rejected Anna's offer to force Damon to reverse the compulsion. She did want him to do it of his own free will, but she wanted the truth of her own experience more. Why should she feel bad about forcing his hand? Thanks to his own actions, she didn't know him, and she seriously doubted he had respected her choice when he compelled her.

She was halfway through dusting the picture frames in the upstairs hall when a needle-sharp pain pierced her above her left eyebrow. Grimacing, she stumbled backward and leaned against the opposite wall, pressing her hand to the spot and closing her eyes tight. Distant voices came to her mind. Familiar voices. And she had the sense that she was sitting on the living room floor, playing with wooden blocks. Everything was very bright and slightly blurred.

 _"I'm scared, Grayson."_

 _"About the baby? But everything's going fine. It's—it's still going fine, right? Or are you worried the vampire from the boarding house massacre will come back? Because I won't let anything—"_

 _"That's not what I mean. What if having a baby of my own changes the way I feel about Elena? That happens sometimes. I've read articles about it."_

 _"Do you remember what it was like after she was born and you held her in your arms for the first time? The look on your face took my breath away. No matter how many more children we have, it won't make Elena any less ours."_

 _"But what if John and Isobel change their minds?"_

 _"She's almost two years old. Isobel hasn't returned any of John's calls in over a year. If she was going to try to take Elena back, she would've done it already, and I know John thinks giving her to us was the right decision."_

The voices faded away along with the pain in her forehead, and Elena found herself once again holding a feather duster and staring at the framed family portrait from just a couple of months before Jeremy was born. What was that? Had that conversation between her parents actually happened? That couldn't be a real memory, could it? The earliest memory she had was of Tyler pushing her down and stealing her sparkler on the 4th of July a month before she turned three because she had the blue one he wanted, and then Matt had punched him on the nose and given the sparkler back. She definitely didn't remember anything from before she was two, and the idea that her parents would be talking about how she wasn't biologically theirs was ridiculous. ...Right? She shook herself mentally and resumed dusting.

There was a knock on the door downstairs, and then she heard Bonnie's voice calling her name. "Hey Elena, are you still home?"

"I'm here!" she said, walking over to the top of the staircase. "Did something happen?"

"I just came from Grams' house," said Bonnie. She shut the front door behind her and jogged up the stairs to Elena, looking excited. "She doesn't think the spell failed."

"Really?" said Elena. "But I still don't—"

"Yeah, she said it wasn't really designed to overcome vampire compulsion, but she thinks it still could, because Damon compelled you while he was weak from werewolf toxin."

"Oh. Well then how can we find out for sure?"

"Grams said sometimes you need to find the right thing to trigger the memories."

Like a photograph from a time before she could remember, Elena thought. A pit formed in her stomach. "Do you think the spell might bring back other kinds of memories?"

Bonnie frowned. "Like what?"

"I don't know," said Elena. She felt like something was closing in on her. "But just now I was dusting this picture—" She seized Bonnie by the hand and pulled her down the hall until they were in front of the photograph in question. "—and I got a headache and then it was like I was hearing my parents having a conversation from around the same time the picture was taken."

"What were they talking about?" said Bonnie, but Elena didn't get a chance to answer, because Bonnie's phone buzzed. She gave Elena a look that suggested whatever it was could wait, but Elena shook her head.

"See what it's about."

She opened her phone, and her frown deepened. "It's from Caroline." She flipped it around so Elena could see the screen.

 _"Off for a secret rendezvous with Stefan! His idea. I don't think it's humanly possible for any man to be sexier. Wish me luck!"_

"This is bad, Elena," said Bonnie, looking worried.

"Why?" said Elena, who was more inclined to feel jealous that she'd been deprived of any chance for a similar rendezvous with Damon than anything else.

"Damon came to see me this afternoon," said Bonnie.

"What?!" said Elena.

"It wasn't about your memories," said Bonnie. "He wanted me to keep an eye on Stefan while he's out of town with your parents, because he thinks he might lose control and hurt someone. Specifically Caroline."

"Well, see if you can get her to tell you where they're going," said Elena. She could deal with the implications of her early childhood memory later.

X

Jenna took a deep, fortifying breath, then affected an air of confidence she didn't feel and strode up to Wes Maxfield. The fact that she'd had a crush on him for most of her time in the Whitmore graduate program was going to make this much easier, even if that crush had evaporated when she found out he was a mad scientist with no morals.

He smiled when he saw her, and she noticed his eyes rove appreciatively over her body. She mentally thanked Miranda for encouraging her to wear the slim-fitting one-shoulder black dress and helping her put her hair up in a curly chignon bun. Normally she wouldn't like the feeling of standing out so much, but her role in this rescue mission was to be distracting, and distracting she certainly was.

"Lucky me," she said with a smirk, "I caught you in between waves of your fawning admirers."

He returned the smirk, looking pleased by her comment. "I was hoping to speak with your brother-in-law, but I can't say I'm disappointed you found me first."

"Oh really?" said Jenna. _Dammit, why did you have to be a psycho?_ she added mentally. It wasn't fair at all. "Why is that?"

"Maybe because you're one of the most breathtaking women here tonight, yet somehow still single. Why is _that_?"

"A lot of terrible dating decisions," said Jenna. This was not the first time she'd flirted with him, but she'd never been this blatant, and neither had he. It shouldn't be this easy, but even though she wasn't particularly attracted to him anymore, there was something powerfully sexy about essentially being the spy seducing the villain. "You wouldn't be interested in helping me make another one, would you?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Maybe something stronger than champagne, to start with," she said, moving closer and casually looping her arm around his. "And maybe we could go somewhere a little more private."

X

 _"So where are you and Stefan meeting for this secret date? ;)"_

Caroline rolled her eyes. The whole point of it being a secret date was that nobody knew about it but her and Stefan. She would tell Bonnie after, and Bonnie was just going to have to deal with that. It wasn't quite seven, but she'd already been sitting on the bleachers for a quarter of an hour. She checked the time again, then dropped her phone back into her purse. When she looked up, she nearly jumped out of her skin, because Stefan was suddenly standing right there, at the bottom of the bleachers. "God, Stefan!" she said, one hand over her heart. She laughed and hopped down from her bench. "I didn't even hear you coming."

"Sorry," he said, offering a sheepish smile that made Caroline go weak in the knees. She really wanted to kiss him again. Instead, she reached for one of his hands.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?"

He squeezed her hand a little, his smile fading into a very serious expression. "We should probably sit down."

X

"No response," said Bonnie anxiously. She was sitting on Elena's bed while Elena paced the room.

"We've got to find them," said Elena. "Maybe we should get Anna."

"I might be able to do it faster," said Bonnie. "Besides, if they're inside a house, Anna won't be able to help. Grams told me to be careful how much magic I do, but a tracking spell shouldn't be harder than the memory spell."

"You mean you can use magic to figure out where they went?" said Elena.

"That depends," said Bonnie, looking around the room. "Do you have anything of Caroline's here? Even something she gave you might be enough for the tracking spell to latch onto."

"Yeah!" said Elena, moving over to her dresser and grabbing the jewelry box off it. "The friendship bracelet she made me at summer camp after fourth grade." She sat on the edge of the bed and dumped the contents of the jewelry box out on the duvet. After a second's rummaging through the pile of bracelets, rings, and necklaces, she found her target: a strand of braided purple embroidery floss with glass beads twisting around it.

"I remember those," said Bonnie, a hint of nostalgia cracking through the worry as she accepted the bracelet from Elena. She had one too, and she and Elena had also made bracelets for each other. "Objects with emotion are more powerful. I think this should be enough."

X

Miranda waited five minutes after she watched Jenna slip out of the room with Maxfield in the direction of the kitchen before following them. However, before she could "accidentally" walk in on them, a scowling teenage boy—Aaron Whitmore, she thought—emerged from the crowded parlor and headed in the same direction.

"Oh, gross, seriously?" he said when he reached the doorway to the kitchen. Miranda heard two yelps in response. Aaron stalked off, probably to retreat to his room for the night. Miranda turned her back on the kitchen, pretending to join a small circle of people discussing the newest building under construction on campus and who had donated the money for it. A few seconds later, Maxfield walked past her, looking rosy cheeked and slightly disheveled. Then Jenna tapped her on the shoulder.

"Well?" Miranda asked, turning to face her little sister.

Jenna, whose hair was much messier than it had been a few minutes ago, smirked. She reached beneath the broad shoulder strap of her dress and withdrew a card, passed it to Miranda, and followed Maxfield into the crowd. Miranda slipped down the hall with the key card until she reached the study, where she surreptitiously dropped it and kicked it through the crack at the bottom of the door.

X

"You're so serious right now," said Caroline. For her, dating had always been very casual. It was about proving she could get any guy she wanted, but the second that guy annoyed her, she'd drop him like yesterday's trash and move on with no regrets. She didn't think she'd ever had a moment like this with a guy, but watching Stefan struggle to say whatever it was he wanted to say was oddly moving. She scooted an inch or so closer on the bleacher bench.

"I'm trying something I've never done before," he said, looking down at their hands resting on top of his knee.

"What's that?" she asked.

He turned to face her. "Starting out with all my cards on the table." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What I'm about to tell you, you have to promise me not to tell anyone. It's okay if you talk about it with Bonnie and Elena, because they already know, but don't tell your mom."

"Why do Bonnie and Elena already know but I don't?" said Caroline, not angrily. She was too surprised to feel jealous.

"Their families are kind of involved in it," said Stefan. "But I don't think your mom or anyone else would be as understanding about it. Do you promise you won't tell?"

"I promise, Stefan," said Caroline, squeezing his fingers. She was fairly bursting now from curiosity, but also desperately wanted him to confide in her.

"How well versed are you in Mystic Falls history?" he said.

"You mean like the Civil War era stuff?" she asked. He nodded. "Well it's my favorite era. I have _Gone with the Wind_ memorized and I designed my antebellum architecture dreamhouse when I was seven." This got a smile out of him, but he shook his head.

"Do you know anything about the Battle of Willow Creek?"

"Well, yeah," said Caroline, confused again, "It's not exactly possible to grow up here and not hear about it a thousand times. But what does that have to do with what you want to tell me?"

"Everything," said Stefan. "My brother and I were born and raised here. I didn't set foot outside Mystic Falls until after I turned seventeen."

She frowned. "But how is that possible? If you both grew up here, I would've met you before this summer, and how could you have traveled so much if you never went anywhere else?"

"Because I turned seventeen in November of 1864. And I haven't gotten a day older since April 7, 1865. Neither has Damon."

Caroline's entire mind balked at the absurdity of those words, but Stefan was looking at her with such painful sincerity that she bit back the skeptical remark trying to leap out. "So...you're like Tuck Everlasting or something?"

It was his turn to look confused. "Who's Tuck Everlasting?"

"He's the main guy in this book I read. He drank water from some kind of magical well and it turned him immortal."

He gave a rueful chuckle. "Sounds like a much nicer way of doing immortality to me."

"Why? What's your way?"

"I'm a vampire."

X

Meredith picked up the key card that had just shot in through the gap beneath the door. She glanced over at Damon, who looked more frustrated and annoyed than anyone she'd ever seen, stuck outside the window. He jerked his head towards the lab's entrance and mouthed, "What are you waiting for?" She rolled her eyes at him and stuck the card in the reader. The lock clicked, the door swung inward, and a gust of slightly damp air rushed out at her. She stepped through, then tested to see if the bookcase could be opened from the inside. It could, so she closed it and the door behind her.

There wasn't a room on the other side, just a flight of cement stairs. An oppressive silence fell around her by the time she reached the bottom step. As usual, she kept an eye out for anything resembling a camera or other type of security device, but so far it seemed the Augustines thought the invitation rule and the hidden entrance to the lab would be enough to keep unwanted visitors out. She pulled out her phone, intending to text the others "So far so good," but her signal had dropped to zero bars. That figured. She put it back in her pocket and forged ahead, swallowing back her nerves.

Upon reaching the end of the corridor that led to the staircase, Meredith saw that the only significant difference between this lab and Grayson's was its size, and maybe that the lighting was a bit bleaker. The main room of this lab was about four times bigger, with the corridor she'd come in on one side and the corridor leading to the cells on the other, as indicated by Grayson's hand-drawn maps. She made her way past glass-fronted refrigerators full of test tubes and beakers, filing cabinets, shelves of many different types of medical diagnostic equipment, trays of surgical tools, and an operating table surrounded by high-powered lamps. She shuddered and continued on to the far corridor.

X

Elena winced in sympathy when Bonnie used a kitchen knife to slice the tip of her left index finger. She wasn't sure she'd be brave enough to do that so calmly, but Bonnie had simply gritted her teeth and done it. She held her finger out over the map of Mystic Falls Elena had printed out and began muttering something under her breath while clutching the friendship bracelet tightly in her right hand. Two drops of blood dripped onto the map, then immediately began to move.

"It's going towards the school," said Elena. And she turned out to be right. Bonnie continued chanting, but the blood stopped moving when it reached the high school.

"Okay," said Bonnie. "Let's go."

X

Meredith quickly reached the only occupied cell, and her heart immediately went out to the bedraggled, emaciated man behind the bars. He resembled photographs of Holocaust survivors from her history textbooks in school—muscles atrophied almost to nothing, flesh stretched tightly over protruding bone. She estimated his weight at around ninety pounds—barely half the healthy weight of a man of his height and build. He wore only a ragged white undershirt and sweatpants, both of which further emphasized his skeletal thinness. His limbs trembled slightly as he got to his feet and approached the bars. It was obvious that he could barely stand, so she was surprised when his brown eyes fixed her with a piercing stare, burning in his skull-like face with a spark of something this place hadn't managed to snuff out in over six decades.

"Maxfield's got himself a new assistant, has he?" he said.

"If he does, I wouldn't know," said Meredith. She stayed back beyond arm's length of the cell, but it took a conscious effort to do so. Her instinct as a medical professional was to view him a patient, to rush forward and assess the extent of his malnutrition and injuries so that she could begin treatment.

"Well, I suppose it could be worse," he said. "It's been a while since the Augustines sent such a pretty minion down here, at any rate."

"I'm not an Augustine. My name is Meredith. And you're Enzo, right?" Even though he was the only one down here, it wouldn't do to release the wrong vampire.

Something about her question gave him pause. "They only call me 12144 around here. How do you know my name?"

"Grayson Gilbert told me," said Meredith, taking a step forward. "He and Damon Salvatore are here too. We came to rescue you." She expected his reaction to be...well, she wasn't entirely sure, but probably eager or relieved. She definitely didn't expect for his features to transform into a fanged snarl and for his hand to shoot out and close around her throat.

"What kind of a fool do you take me for?" he demanded, pulling her right up to the bars until her face was mere inches from his. However, while his actions had startled her, prolonged starvation had made him so weak that his grip on her throat was barely painful. She'd had worse from uncooperative _human_ patients in her time as an ER doctor, and she was able to push his hand away easily with just one of hers. It was such a pathetic attempt that all it achieved was to make her feel even sorrier for him than she already did.

"You don't want to be rescued?" she said, calmly stepping back to minimum safe distance.

"What I want is irrelevant," said Enzo, still angry but no longer shouting. "Damon left me to die in a fire half a century ago, and everything I've heard about Grayson since the last time I saw him suggests that the mercy he showed me was merely a temporary lapse. Even if I _was_ prepared to believe that either of them still gave a rat's ass about me, do you really expect me to buy that they'd ever be working _together_? You're just part of the next sick game the Augustines have decided to play with me. It wouldn't be the first time they offered an escape route only to snatch it away. I won't fall for it again."

"It's not a game!" said Meredith, stepping close again. "I'd let you compel me to tell you the truth if I wasn't on vervain, but look!" She thrust Grayson's map through the bars at him. He took it, and the anger in his face wavered as his gaze darted over it.

"This is Grayson's handwriting," he said.

"Yeah, because he made that map so I'd be able to find you. He's upstairs right now with his wife and sister-in-law, making sure nobody tries to come to the lab until you're out, and Damon's waiting outside in the getaway car, a cooler of blood bags from the blood drive we did earlier today sitting in the back seat for you. They sent me to get you because they would've drawn too much attention trying to get in, but they would've done this part themselves if they could've."

He looked back up at her, his features human again. She could see a glint of hope (and perhaps tears) in those fierce eyes, though he was clearly trying to suppress it.

"Grayson gave me a copy of the key to this cell, too," said Meredith, taking it out of her pocket. "Do you know if it's the same lock? The one on the entrance to the lab was changed."

"It's the same," said Enzo.

Meredith didn't wait for him to make a decision, she just stuck the key in the lock and turned. The door swung open.

X

Caroline couldn't help it. She snorted. "We're sitting here in broad daylight, you're not sparkly or on fire, and you expect me to believe that not only do vampires exist, but you're one of them?"

"What? Vampires don't sparkle," said Stefan, looking both confused and affronted. She gave him a flat stare and didn't reply. He sighed. "I can prove it, okay?" he said, his gaze unwavering. A shiver ran up her spine, but she pretended it hadn't and folded her arms, refusing to entertain the possibility that he was serious.

"Okay," she said. She wasn't happy. He clearly thought she was an idiot or something, and she felt incredibly indignant about it, because it meant his "quiet, sensitive guy" thing was just an act, and that he was a really good actor. But even so, she couldn't figure out _why_ he was telling her this. If he didn't want to date her, he could've just said so, but if he did, what was the point of this charade when she already liked him? Did he just get off on messing with people? Had he hidden a camera somewhere so he could post her reaction online? She expected him to pull some kind of lame trick as his "proof." However, he didn't move. He just kept looking at her, and before her eyes, dark veins rose beneath the skin of his cheeks and eyelids and the whites of his eyes turned red. Her jaw dropped.

"You needed to know the truth before anything else happened," he said, and as he spoke, she got a clear glimpse of the razor-sharp fangs his eyeteeth had become. "I don't want to trick you or lie to you, and as much as I wish reality was different, I don't want to pretend to be something I'm not. Not again. You're a very forthright person, and you deserve the same from anyone interested in dating you, but like I said yesterday, I wouldn't blame you if this was a deal-breaker."

Caroline felt like her brain had jammed. She turned to face the field instead of Stefan, bracing her hands against her knees and taking several deep breaths. She was too overwhelmed to be afraid, but that quickly changed when she remembered recent events. "Vicki Donovan," she said, her voice shaking even though she was trying to act calm and unaffected. "Was that you or Damon?"

"Neither," he said. She whipped around to look at him, to catch some hint that he was lying. His features had gone back to normal, and he looked just as earnest as he always did. "But her killer did try to make it look like a vampire did it. That's one of the reasons we're working with the Gilberts and the Bennetts. To stop him."

"Who's the killer?" said Caroline sharply.

"It might be better if you don't know," he said, looking uncomfortable.

"What? How come?" she demanded. "You can tell me you're a vampire but you can't tell me who killed a girl I've known my whole life? Do Bonnie and Elena know about that too?"

"Bonnie and Elena are directly involved. They don't have the luxury of not needing that information. You do. Your mom is the sheriff. We have to be extremely careful with how we handle this case, and I don't want to put you in a position where you have to lie to her."

"Pfft, I lie to her all the time," said Caroline, annoyed.

"When it was life and death?" said Stefan.

Caroline frowned, unwilling to admit he was right.

"Look, if it goes the way we hope, it should be safe to tell you everything soon."

"Okay," she said grudgingly. She glanced at him. He was so gorgeous and sweet, and he clearly respected her as a person if he was willing to trust her with the truth about himself. The information about Vicki, even limited, had been enough to get her past the initial shock of seeing his vampire features, but she definitely still hadn't processed that reality-shattering piece of information or what it meant for how she felt about him. "I'm going to keep my promise. I won't tell Mom or anyone else about you and Damon. But I'm gonna need to think about this. It's a lot."

"I know," said Stefan. He smiled. "Take all the time you need."

* * *

In one of the early chapters of Part I, Jenna described Maxfield as "the really hot, young, and single Dr. Wes Maxfield." It was great fun getting to expand on that here. I feel like their flirting would've seemed way over the top if I hadn't already laid some groundwork for it. I also feel like before Sarah Whitmore's death, Maxfield was probably a little less tightly wound and more likely to flirt with attractive grad students. Jenna and Meredith's tense backstory is based entirely on a) my intense desire to write them as friends, because they're both awesome and b) Jenna's line from S1 "He's a Fell. They're **all** snooty." So I thought I could do something fun with that. I really love Enzo's first present-day scene and how Meredith interacts with him. There will be more of an explanation for his skeletal thinness next chapter, though. And Caroline and Stefan! I legitimately wasn't sure if their private meeting was going to end well, but you know things can't go smooth forever with Stefan on human blood. Also, unexpected side-effects from the memory spell! Muah-ah-ah-ah. That's going to be fun. Please let me know what you thought, and I'll try very hard to see you guys again at the end of the month! (I'll be moving and hopefully starting a new job, so things might get too hectic to update on time, but I'm going to try!)


	5. Friendship Is Magic

Curses! Missed May by a day. Oh well. As expected, the chaos of moving didn't leave me enough time to update at the end of April like I wanted to, but here it is at last! The job hunt was way smoother and quicker than I ever would have expected. Within two weeks of starting to apply to different jobs, I successfully landed a full-time copywriting gig, and it's awesome. I was so ready to be done teaching college composition courses. This pays way better and is much less aggravating. And I no longer have roommates! I have an apartment all to myself, which is absolutely lovely. I also have a car now, but it's giving me so much trouble that that's been less lovely. Anyway, enough life update stuff. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

It had been half an hour since Miranda had slipped the key card to Meredith in the study, and she hadn't responded to any of their texts since then. There probably wasn't cell reception down there, but that was one possibility they _had_ been ready for. So far, the only person who seemed to have noticed Meredith's absence at all was her uncle, but he didn't look bothered by it yet. The way the party sprawled across several of the main rooms of the house, it was difficult to be sure of where any one person was anyway.

As to Wes Maxfield, Grayson had been the one keeping him distracted. Once you got the man going on his research, provided you were a fellow Augustine, it didn't require much effort to keep him talking about it. The knowledge that they were rescuing Enzo made it easier for Grayson to conceal his anger and horror as Maxfield described what he'd been doing to 12144.

"Depriving a subject of normal food isn't something that ever occurred to me to try," he said. "Fascinating. So if a vampire doesn't get any _blood_ , he begins to desiccate and, apart from total dehydration, his body mass is effectively preserved. The tissues can be rehydrated back to normal at any time with enough blood."

"That's right," said Wes. "But if you keep giving the subject barely enough blood to stave off desiccation while depriving him of any _other_ nutrients for an extended period of time, he'll lose fat and muscle mass, and his organs will shrink. Unlike starvation in a human, it doesn't cause the organs to lose function; blood keeps them running no matter how extreme the circumstances are. I haven't begun testing yet how long it takes to recover once nutrients are reintroduced. It will be interesting to see how much more quickly he can regain his body mass than a human would be able to. I've yet to discover the upper limit to the amount of blood a vampire can metabolize in one sitting because there's no way to safely test it and I'd never get that kind of supply anyway, but I would hypothesize that his body can metabolize other nutrients just as quickly without any of the problems you'd see in a human recovering from prolonged starvation."

"What are your ideas for how to use these discoveries?" said Grayson, trying very hard not to imagine the state Enzo must be in. He'd see for himself soon enough anyway.

"You know how important it is to understand how different their biology is from ours," said Wes, as if the question was baffling.

"I do, but I also like to know how to put that understanding to good use," said Grayson. "If he really can bounce back from extreme starvation without any shock to his system, then that would suggest vampire blood can be used as a supplement to dramatically speed up recovery time for human starvation victims, and it could quickly and safely repair the damage from chronic eating disorders." With a grim expression, he gestured around them. "This is a college campus. I'm sure you've seen at least a few cases of anorexia."

A grin slowly broke out over Wes's face, and he clapped Grayson on the back. "Out of the game for ten years and you've still got it. These are the kinds of ideas we've been missing since you lost your own subject. I could get you a new one easy if you want back in. Just say the word."

Grayson didn't think he'd ever seen a more punchable face, and he'd seen Richard Lockwood up close. Had Wes actually just implied that he would turn someone into a vampire to be Grayson's new lab rat if he asked him to, as though that wasn't murder? The Augustines really were no better than the creatures they experimented on, and yet they were so blind to it that they clearly slept much better at night than he did. He hoped that even at his worst while Demetri was his prisoner, he'd never been this bad. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think Miranda would approve."

"Does she have to know?" said Wes, looking disappointed.

Grayson chuckled and clinked his champagne flute against the one Wes was holding, even though he would much rather have smashed it into the man's right eye socket. "Only someone who's never been married would ask that," he said. "I'll talk it over with her, but I'm pretty sure I already know what she'll say."

They both took sips of their champagne, and then Wes perked up. "Oh, there's another thing I wanted to discuss with you. Come here, I want to show you part of it."

Grayson would have been very alarmed, but Wes didn't lead him towards the study where the entrance to the lab was concealed. Instead, he led him between clusters of chatting people over to the fireplace in the parlor. He reached up to the mantelpiece and picked up a rather beautiful Roman-style statue of a woman holding a vase. "You wanted to show me Sarah's decorations?" he asked dryly, knowing there was more to it.

Wes smirked at him, then turned the statue upside down. The base had been hollowed out, and there was a device inside with a blinking red light on it. "I haven't just been subjecting 12144 to starvation. I've also successfully implanted him with a device that makes sure he won't be able to leave campus. It's like an electronic leash."

"What happens when he runs out of slack?" said Grayson. This was not good. They'd been able to overcome the obstacle of the key card, but what could they do about Wes's device? He couldn't simply have Miranda or Jenna steal or destroy the transmitter; Grayson was surely the only person Wes had told about it tonight, so if anything happened to it, he'd be the only suspect.

"First, vervain—enough to drop him for hours," said Wes. "That made it easy to retrieve him during the testing phase. But if he somehow manages to get even farther away, he'll get a miniature wooden stake through his heart. I don't think he'll ever try it, though, but the other members of the Society are interested in what we could use him for within the boundaries of the signal."

"You think he'll work for you?" said Grayson, not interested in hearing what tasks Enzo would be assigned in that scenario.

"He doesn't know that I'm already planning to reverse the starvation process; I can use food as an incentive, and there will be plenty of other incentives after that. Can you imagine what we could do if we had a vampire conditioned to fight for our side? The leash and positive reinforcement are just one possibility. I'm working on a theory that they might be chemically reprogrammed to crave only the blood of other vampires, but that's a project years from realization. This should keep me busy in the meantime."

"You certainly do have your hands full," said Grayson. "I'm sorry I can't have a more active role."

X

Elena and Bonnie reached the football field half-expecting to find a vampire covered in blood and a mangled corpse in place of one of their oldest friends. Instead, they saw Caroline sitting alone on the bleachers. She looked perfectly fine, if unusually serious. At least, until she spotted them hurrying her way. Then she looked scary. Her eyes flared at the sight of them and she got abruptly to her feet and marched toward them in a straight line.

"Elena Marie Gilbert and Bonnie Sheila Bennett," she said loudly. "You two have some serious explaining to do."

The two of them froze and exchanged glances. "Uh, what do you mean?" said Elena.

"Vampires!" said Caroline. "Stefan told me everything! And he also told me that both of you have known for over a month. How long have we been friends? Why the hell wouldn't you tell me something like that? You knew the guy I was interested in wasn't even human and you didn't think I deserved to know?"

"We kind of...," said Bonnie nervously, shooting another look at Elena, who took over.

"We kind of hoped he'd give you the brush-off and it wouldn't be an issue." She wished she'd found a different way to say it the second the words were out of her mouth, because the rage on Caroline's face only intensified.

"Seriously? Not only did you think it was okay to keep me in the dark about what the Salvatores are, but you also thought me getting rejected was an acceptable outcome?"

"Come on, Caroline, you have a new crush every other week," said Bonnie, her tone imploring. "We thought you'd forget about him as quickly as you do any other guys who haven't been interested."

Elena winced at Bonnie's use of the phrase "forget about him." Caroline didn't look appeased by this remark either, so Elena decided to re-focus the conversation on the vampire side of things instead of the dating side before it could get worse. "It's really dangerous to know about vampires," she said. "Most of the people in this town who know about them want all of them dead, period, and your mom is one of them. My family and Miss Sheila know it's more complicated than that, so Bonnie and I are in a much easier position than you."

This seemed to give Caroline pause, and Bonnie was quick to take advantage of it. "So how did you find out? Did Stefan—"

"He told me. That was the whole point of our 'secret rendez-vous.' So much for my romantic date fantasies. He thought I deserved to know the truth before we took things any further."

Elena thought of her diary entries. She'd been very upset with Damon that she had to find out about vampires from her parents when he could've told her himself. "Isn't it better that Stefan was the one to tell you than if it had been one of us?" she asked. "That means he trusts you."

Caroline looked like she knew Elena had a point but was annoyed about it. "How did you two find out?"

"We walked in on Grams and Dr. and Mrs. Gilbert interrogating Damon at the boarding house," said Bonnie. "And then Zach Salvatore tried to shoot Damon with a crossbow but Elena jumped in the way, so they didn't have much of a choice but to explain everything after that."

Caroline's mouth hung open for several seconds. Then, in characteristic Caroline fashion, she straightened up, a determined look on her face. "Okay. At first I thought I needed some time alone to think about all of this, but now I'd rather do a girls' night so you two can fill me in on everything else I've missed."

Relieved that Caroline was no longer angry with them, Elena and Bonnie readily agreed.

X

Enzo stepped out of his cell and promptly wobbled on his bony knees. Meredith immediately moved to support him with her shoulder under his arm. "We should hurry," she said, helping him down the hall. She wished she'd brought at least one of the blood bags with her. His condition was so bad it nearly made her physically ill from sympathy. "I don't have cell reception down here, so I don't know how long the Gilberts and Jenna can keep the coast clear for us."

"There's a problem," said Enzo.

"What?" said Meredith, coming to a halt. They were on the threshold of the main laboratory room now.

"If you lot actually pull this off and get me out of here for good, the Augustines will just use samples of my blood to create another specimen out of someone they consider disposable or dangerous to them."

Meredith stared at him, appalled. "Then we'll destroy the samples first. Do they keep them all in here?"

"I think so," said Enzo. "I can't guarantee Maxfield or one of the others won't have vials of it stashed in a safe somewhere, but I'm not sure it would've occurred to them to have that kind of a redundancy in place."

Meredith helped Enzo onto a stool just inside the lab, then hurried over to the wall of refrigerators. "Are the samples in here?"

"Yes," said Enzo. "Be careful not to disturb the vials of diseases, though. I wouldn't want my rescuer coming down with Bubonic Plague."

Suppressing a shudder, Meredith glanced around the lab. She spotted what she was after within seconds: a box of latex gloves. She donned a pair, then returned to the refrigerators and began removing everything blood-related from them as quickly as possible. She then poured the contents into the sink, washed the containers out to remove any useful traces of blood, and kept the water running until the sink appeared clean.

"Anything else?" she asked, turning to face Enzo again. "Grayson wondered if Maxfield might've implanted you with some kind of tracking device."

She thought she saw a flicker of fond amusement in his expression, though it was bittersweet. "Of course he'd think of that. Avid science fiction fan and a mad scientist himself? It's not a tracker so much as a proximity alarm, which is linked to capsules in between my ribs near my spine where I can't reach. If I get far enough away from this building, I'll get a massive dose of vervain from the first one. If I manage to get much farther than that, the second one will fire a wooden spike into my heart."

It seemed every time Meredith thought the situation couldn't get more horrifying, she turned out to be wrong. Enzo delivered this news, which certainly complicated the plan to get him out of here, in a rather toneless voice. He might be out of the cell, but he plainly still didn't believe he'd be free. "You say that like you have experience," she observed, deciding not to give him a hard time for failing to mention this obstacle to her earlier.

"That's what I was referring to when I said the Augustines had tricked me into believing I would escape before. One night a few months ago when I came to after a particularly nasty 'surgery,' I found the cell unlocked, and I made a break for it. Given that that had never happened before in six decades, I should've been more suspicious. I didn't even make it off the property before the vervain capsule went off. Augustine goons found me and dragged me back. Maxfield replaced the vervain capsule and described in detail how it and the spring-loaded death splinter work. I nearly dislocated my shoulder trying to claw them out, but I only managed to set off the vervain one again."

"Let me see," said Meredith.

"What, you're still not giving up?" said Enzo, eyebrows raised in sardonic skepticism.

"The hell I am!" said Meredith fiercely. "They can't get away with this."

Enzo stared at her for another second or two, then turned around and pulled his shirt up to his shoulder blades. She could see every single rib clearly outlined, and his spine protruded grotesquely. One advantage of him being skin and bones, however, was that the two capsules he had described were immediately obvious. They were indeed positioned very awkwardly for Enzo to try removing them himself, especially if they were somewhat sensitive to pressure, but they shouldn't be any harder to remove than they had been for Maxfield to implant.

"I'd use this equipment to remove them right here," she said, "but I don't want to risk leaving any blood for them to use, and we really don't have time for surgery and cleanup. I'm guessing you don't know where the proximity signal is coming from inside the house?"

"Haven't had the chance to look," said Enzo. "I don't imagine it's prominently positioned and clearly labeled."

"Well, we are in a lab hidden behind a sliding bookcase," said Meredith, rolling her eyes. "For being a secret society, the Augustines don't seem exactly subtle."

This earned her an actual chuckle from Enzo. "If you can't find the signal, then you'd better be prepared to do that surgery after all," he said.

"Fine," said Meredith with resolve. What other choice did they have? Those devices would have to come out sometime, and there was no better place to do it within range of the signal than here. "We're going to have to be fast, then. Lie facedown on that table. Where does Maxfield keep the scalpels?"

X

When Liz left her office for City Hall, it wasn't to see the Mayor and confront him about what Tyler had said or her evidence against him, as much as she wished she could do that. Having Tyler's statement and the partial fingerprint was better than just having the latter, but it still wasn't enough to take down someone as influential and well-connected as Richard Lockwood, and she didn't want to tip her hand to him until she absolutely had to. If he was willing to attack Grayson Gilbert in his own home, she could be putting herself, her daughter, and her deputies at risk if she made an enemy out of him too soon.

No, she was on her way to see Judge Rudy Hopkins, the magistrate for Mystic Falls. Even though he wasn't on the Founders' Council, he knew as much about vampires as any of its members, so she could definitely discuss the werewolf hypothesis with him. However, he had always been much more reluctant than Brian Walters to allow anything supernatural to cross paths with his work. The moment Liz succeeded in getting an arrest warrant out of him would be the moment she'd be sure the charges would stick to Richard. All she wanted to do tonight was gage how far she still had to go before she got to that point.

Rudy's office and courtroom were only open to the public during business hours, but Liz knew he spent most of his free time in his office, poring over cases. She doubted he was able to spend any more time with Bonnie than she was able to spend with Caroline. She headed up to the top floor of the old City Hall building and knocked on Rudy's door.

"Rudy, it's Liz," she said loudly.

The door opened a couple of seconds later. "What can I do for you?" Rudy asked. He didn't look like he'd been getting enough sleep lately.

"Do you have a minute to discuss an arrest warrant?"

He stepped to the side so that she could enter.

X

Grayson was spared the necessity of coming up with an excuse to abandon his conversation with Wes when Wes excused himself to go to the bathroom. Grayson immediately headed in the opposite direction. He needed to warn Meredith about Enzo's electronic leash before she handed him off to Damon and they accidentally triggered it. He sent Miranda and Jenna a text as he moved through the crowd: _"Going to the study. Keep Maxfield distracted. He's in the bathroom on the north side of the house."_

He reached the study without incident and slipped inside. Damon was waiting just outside the window as planned, and he looked alarmed at the sight of Grayson. Grayson hurried over to the window and slid it open.

"What's wrong?" Damon asked.

"Meredith hasn't come out with him yet?" said Grayson.

"No," said Damon.

"Maxfield implanted Enzo with vervain and a miniature stake that'll go off if he gets too far away from this building. If we're going to get him out of here, we have to remove them first."

Damon stared at Grayson without speaking, and Grayson wondered if Damon felt as guilty as he did about all that Enzo had been through since each of them failed to get him out, but then the vampire's head snapped over to stare at the sliding bookcase. "They're coming out," he said.

X

Damon had spent the entire heist so far waiting outside the (now wide open) window beside the getaway car with little fear of discovery. The study containing the entrance to the torture lab was situated on a side of Whitmore House that was well sheltered from view by the elaborate landscaping. It was such an obvious weakness in the place's security that he actually felt a little disappointed in the Augustine Society.

Now, as the sounds of Meredith and Enzo climbing the stairs on the other side of that bookcase grew louder, Damon and Grayson exchanged glances through the open window. The bookcase slid out of the way again, and Meredith emerged. Damon's stomach dropped at the sight of the unrecognizable bag of bones hanging off her shoulder. This was worse than he ever could've imagined.

"What the hell have they been doing to you, Enzo?" he said. Grayson seemed to be struggling just as much with the condition their friend was in.

"Nice to see you too, Damon," said Enzo, his tone unreadable. He glanced at Grayson. "And you, Grayson. You got old, mate."

"I shouldn't have let this happen," said Grayson, and Damon was stunned to hear the man's voice crack. He'd started to think nothing ever ruffled him. "I knew what Maxfield was from the start and I didn't do anything to stop him."

"Better late than never, I suppose," said Enzo, though less in a tone of forgiveness than one of not wanting to discuss it.

"Can we do this later, guys?" said Meredith. She looked at Grayson. "I thought you were supposed to be on diversion duty anyway."

"I had to warn you about the electronic leash."

"Already taken care of," said Meredith, holding up a transparent medical waste bag containing two bloody objects with flashing red lights on them. "I figured we probably shouldn't leave these lying in the lab. We don't want to make it too obvious he had help getting out." She tossed the bag to Damon, then pulled Maxfield's key card out of her pocket and passed it to Grayson. "That needs to get back in its owner's pocket before he notices it was gone."

Grayson nodded and left the room, and Meredith helped Enzo over to the window. Damon had to suppress a flinch when his fingers made contact with his friend's shrunken limbs. It should've been him in there getting experimented on all these years, not Enzo.

In less than a minute, the window was closed, Enzo was slumped in the back seat of Meredith's car, and Damon was pulling it out of the drive of Augustine House. Damon couldn't think of anything to say, so he just silently passed Enzo blood bags from the cooler on the passenger seat.

X

"He's not giving her the warrant?" said Jeremy, disappointed.

"No. He says she needs more evidence," said Anna, whose eyes were closed as she concentrated on the connection with Agent Archi. The owl had been following Sheriff Forbes ever since it got too dark for Agent Hawkeye to see.

Tyler punched a nearby bookshelf, sending several Garth Nix books flying. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?" he demanded as he began gathering the books up and replacing them on the shelf. He'd thought everything would be over once he made his statement.

"If you think about it, it really isn't a lot of evidence," said Anna. "You didn't witness him killing Vicki. The evidence has to be enough to overpower all the bias in his favor because of his status, and everything the Sheriff has so far—that a jury would believe, at least—is kinda circumstantial."

"That's because no one but us knows about Coach Tanner yet," said Jeremy. "But if the Sheriff finds his remains on Lockwood property... I mean, your dad had a big argument with him in front of everyone at the Grill, and then he disappeared the next day."

"So then let's tell her where the body is," said Tyler, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Oh sure, and it won't look suspicious at all if you, who dated the first victim and got kicked off the football team by the second, provided that information," said Anna. Tyler scowled at her.

"Well how are we supposed to get someone _else_ to find the body?" said Jeremy. "It's in a hidden cellar in the middle of the woods on private Lockwood property."

An idea struck Tyler, making him forget the rude remark he was about to throw at Anna for her sarcasm. "I know how," he said, and a grin spread over his face.

X

Grayson hadn't reemerged from the study yet by the time Miranda spotted Wes Maxfield stepping out of the bathroom. She was hoping she wouldn't have to pull out her diversion trump card, but the alternative was actually having a conversation with him, and she liked that idea even less. She excused herself with a smile from the group conversation she'd peripherally been a part of, seized a deviled egg off the tray of the nearest waiter, took a deep whiff of the appetizer that was usually one of her favorites, and crammed it into her mouth despite the instant roiling of her stomach.

By the time she was level with Maxfield, she knew she had about ten seconds left before she threw up. He smiled at her as she approached him, but then his expression turned to horrified concern. "Are you alright?" he said.

Miranda shook her head vigorously, hand over her mouth. With her free hand, she dragged him into the bathroom with her. She made it to the toilet just in time to empty her stomach into it. Then she popped up again, smiling apologetically. He moved over so she could rinse her mouth out in the sink.

"It's not food poisoning, is it?" he asked as they exited the bathroom.

"Oh, no," said Miranda. "I'm fine now. Some of the more fragrant appetizers just set off my morning sickness."

"Oh, I didn't realize you and Grayson were expecting!" said Maxfield. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," said Miranda. "But we're trying to keep it a secret for a few more weeks. Since I had Jeremy, there have been a few miscarriages."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Maxfield. "Grayson never mentioned—"

"We've kept it quiet," said Miranda. She was perfectly aware of how awkward it was to discuss something so intensely personal—she could practically see him squirming—, but it was a very effective way of keeping her audience captive, even if he would rather be anywhere else. "Our kids don't even know. Hopefully we won't have any more sad news to hide from them."

Over his shoulder, she saw Jenna approaching from the direction of the study. Jenna gave her a subtle nod. Eyes back on Maxfield, Miranda smiled. "But I'm sure you'd rather be talking science with Grayson. I'll see if I can find him for you."

He smiled back and nodded. Miranda turned around, but she heard Jenna say, "There you are!" in a husky tone she never wanted to hear her baby sister use. Resisting the urge to vomit again, she went looking for her husband.

X

"What the hell is Damon's problem?" said Caroline crossly. She, Elena, and Bonnie were sitting in a circle on her bed, each wearing pajamas and tucking in to her own pint of ice cream. "You guys spend all that time together and you _definitely_ weren't just friends, and then he just erases it all? Who _does_ that?"

"I don't know," said Elena before taking a particularly large bite of moose tracks, her expression somewhere between a pout and a scowl. "And I have no idea what will trigger the spell to make me remember, if it's even going to work."

"Grams said—," Bonnie began, but Elena cut her off.

"That's the thing, though," said Elena. "I don't think it will work on _those_ memories, because I'm pretty sure it already worked on _different_ ones. That was what I was about to tell you before you got Caroline's text."

Caroline scooted closer. Her world might have been turned upside down in the space of a single evening, but being brought up to speed by her two best friends had already made her feel much better about it. Whatever had put that worried look on Elena's face, she wanted to know, and she wanted to help.

"What memories?" said Bonnie.

"I was dusting old family pictures, and when I got to the one with me as a baby, when Mom was pregnant with Jeremy, I got this flash, and I heard Mom and Dad talking _back then_." Elena took a deep breath, and her eyes were bright with tears. "They were talking about how having a baby of their own wouldn't make me any less theirs. Guys, I think I'm adopted."

"Holy crap," Caroline gasped.

"You're sure that was the spell?" said Bonnie.

"What else could it have been?" said Elena, her voice cracking as the tears spilled out. "Why wouldn't they _tell_ me?"

"Oh, sweetie," said Caroline, scooting closer again, this time to comfort. She put an arm around Elena's shoulders. Bonnie did the same on Elena's other side.

"You've got to talk to them about it," said Bonnie. "We don't have any of the answers. Maybe they didn't tell you because they didn't want you to worry if they didn't really love you like a daughter."

"Maybe," said Elena, but she didn't sound reassured.

"Did they say anything about your birth parents?" said Caroline.

"Yeah, I think so. Dad was reassuring Mom that John and Isobel weren't going to try to take me back." Her face twisted unhappily. "The only John I know is my uncle. Or, I guess, he's my dad, and Mom and Dad are really my Uncle Grayson and Aunt Miranda."

Caroline didn't know what to say, so she simply exchanged upset glances with Bonnie.

"I just wanted to get back the memories Damon took from me, and now this comes out of nowhere."

"Enough!" said Bonnie. "If you keep this up, you're gonna spiral. Go talk to them. Be Decisive Elena, like you were when you broke up with Matt."

"They're not home. Jenna either. They're all off at some party at Whitmore College. I guess Damon went too. It'll be hours before they get back."

"Well, in that case," said Caroline, hopping down from the bed and facing Elena and Bonnie, ice cream-free hand on her hip, "we'll have to figure out a way to make the time go by faster."

X

They were far enough away from Whitmore that Enzo no longer needed to keep his head down as a precaution, and the cooler in the passenger seat was empty. "You never used to be this quiet, mate," said Enzo once he'd finished replacing his ragged lab rat clothes with the extra v-neck, jeans, and boots Damon had brought.

Damon glanced over his shoulder at him. "Impressive table manners, considering the rations that Maxfield guy must've had you on," he observed, turning back to face the road. "I expected to have to pay to reupholster Meredith's car, and I was planning to be an ass about it."

"I wouldn't want to be wasteful," said Enzo dryly. "But it's not that hard to be tidy drinking through a straw."

"I'd offer to help you get something straight from the source," said Damon with a scowl, "but it's probably gonna be at least a month before I'm allowed to drink blood of any kind, myself."

"'Allowed'?" Enzo repeated.

"Werewolf bite," said Damon. "Supposed to be fatal and incurable to vampires, but our buddy the Doc took that as kind of a double-dog dare. I'll be fine, eventually, as long as I only get blood in the form of transfusions from Stefan until the last traces of the toxin are gone."

"So werewolves exist too, do they?" said Enzo.

"That was news to all of us. We're lucky the Augustines never knew."

"So are the werewolves," said Enzo.

Damon stared at the road. He had only experienced a fraction of what the Augustines were capable of, compared to Enzo, but it had been enough for him to know that he wouldn't want his enemies in their clutches (disregarding the certainty that the Augustines would've found a way to weaponize werewolf venom if they'd had access to it). Richard Lockwood deserved either a swift death or a lifetime behind bars knowing his reputation and influence were destroyed forever. Nobody deserved to be an Augustine lab rat. If Damon had his way, nobody else ever would be. He suspected Grayson might feel the same.

Rather more abruptly than Meredith's car appreciated, Damon pulled over to the side of the road.

"What are you doing?" said Enzo.

After putting the car in park, Damon grabbed the empty cooler and tossed it into the back driver's side seat. "Move up," he said. "I feel like a chauffeur with you back there."

Enzo got out and climbed into the front passenger seat instead. Damon frowned. Even though he was strong enough to walk unassisted and wasn't quite so pale thanks to the blood, Enzo still looked like someone had applied flesh-colored shrink wrap to a skeleton. Somehow, new clothes only made his malnourishment stand out more. "How long has it been since you had a cheeseburger?"

"I think I've heard of them," said Enzo vaguely. "Some of the American soldiers I fought alongside in World War II before I got captured would reminisce about the food back home."

"Okay, I am taking you to a burger joint _right now_ ," said Damon.

X

When Tyler left the library, he was brimming with confidence and satisfaction at the plan he, Jeremy, and Anna had made. Perhaps that was why the sight of his dad's car in the drive and the sound of him calling his name the second he stepped inside the house failed to send the usual frisson of anxiety up and down his spine. He strode into the office with more indifference than he'd ever managed.

His dad seemed to notice that something had changed, because when Tyler met his gaze, his eyes narrowed briefly. "Did you want something, Dad?" Tyler asked.

"Have you read that journal yet?" said Richard.

"Haven't gotten around to it," said Tyler, shrugging.

"Oh really? What's been so important and time-consuming that you couldn't take a look at a piece of your heritage? Not school. Sure as hell not football."

"What's so important about reading some old journal?" said Tyler, annoyed. So his dad could trick him into becoming a werewolf, but he didn't have the nerve to admit it to his face? "Since when do you care what I read anyway?"

"You'll read what I say you'll read!" Richard snarled. He seized the book out of his desk drawer and hurled it at Tyler's head. Tyler reacted on pure instinct, his hand shooting up to snatch it out of the air eighteen inches from his face.

"Fine," Tyler said coldly. "Since it's so important." He took in the surprise on his dad's face and the hint of something that might have been approval, but if that was really what it was, it was sixteen years too late. So instead of waiting for Richard to speak, he turned his back and headed up to his room. _You're going down, you bastard,_ he thought savagely, tossing the journal on his bed. _You're going down, and Mom and I are going to be so much happier without you._

X

"So is this what all cars are like these days?" said Enzo, observing the handful of vehicles lined up in the parking lot of Harvelle's, the first bar and grill they'd come across. "I expected them to change, and Grayson got me a few automobile magazines while he was at Whitmore, so I know what they looked like through the early '90s and that automatic transmissions have become streamlined and commonplace, but it seems like there's no power and hardly any style to them anymore!"

Damon remembered how much Enzo had liked cars. "For the most part, cars haven't been cool since the '70s. Which is why I drive a '69 Camaro when I'm not on covert rescue operations." He looked at Enzo curiously, some of the implications of his long isolation from the rest of the world just now sinking in. "What else have you completely missed? Do you know about the moon landing? Rock and roll? Television? _Color_ television? Cell phones? The internet? 9/11?"

"Not those last three."

They stepped inside. Harvelle's was dimly lit and so rustic that Damon suspected they were either bribing the health inspector or he didn't know they existed. Neat freak though he was, Damon was pleased; this was the kind of place you knew you could get a damn fine burger. Even better, the few customers there were all sitting at the bar and did not look around at the sound of the door opening. An attractive middle-aged woman in a flannel shirt and an apron came up to them. When she saw Enzo, her mouth fell open, but just for a second. After that, she managed to compose herself, only a furrow between her brows still hinting at her distress on his behalf. "Howdy. I'm Ellen," she said with forced pleasantness. "I hope you boys brought your appetites."

"That we did, ma'am," said Damon. Without even waiting for her to seat them, he passed her a few hundreds. "To start out, we'll have one of everything, a bottle of bourbon, and the most secluded booth you've got."

"Yes sir!" said Ellen. "Right over here." She led them to a booth that was largely obscured from view of the rest of the dining room and the bar by a jukebox. "Now, will you want your whole order at once, or—"

"You can just bring them out as they come off the line," said Damon.

"Alright, then. I'll be right back with the bourbon and a basket of fries." She turned towards the bar. "Jo! Gonna need all hands on deck in the kitchen for this one!" The blonde, pretty-in-a-next-door-neighbor way bartender promptly stopped drying glasses behind the bar and followed Ellen into the back.

X

"I can't believe it's been ten years," said Jenna.

"I know," said Meredith. It was after 9, and they were finally headed back to Mystic Falls in Jenna's Mini. Though the car was surprisingly roomy, it was still smaller than what you'd probably want for a potentially awkward reunion between best friends who'd fallen out.

"And you're in the ER. You always did want to be a doctor."

"You're getting your master's in Psychology, aren't you?"

"Yeah," said Jenna. "Kinda wish I'd picked a different school for that now, but it's been good."

"I never got a chance to apologize," said Meredith in a rush. "For what I said back then."

"We both said things we shouldn't have. We were dumb kids."

"Still," said Meredith. "With as much of a mentor as your brother-in-law has been to me, it shouldn't have taken a supernatural rescue mission before I was brave enough to talk to you again."

"I've seen Logan at the Grill a couple of times since the semester ended," said Jenna. "Managed to avoid him."

" _Good_ ," said Meredith without thinking. Then she looked over at Jenna, worried about her reaction, but Jenna made eye contact with her for a split-second before she burst out laughing. Meredith joined in, and the tension was officially broken.

"How do you feel about getting burgers somewhere?" said Jenna after they finally stopped laughing. "I want to hear your side of our big operation, and I want to brag to someone about how I played Maxfield like a fiddle."

"Burgers would be great!" said Meredith happily.

X

Ellen had kept the food coming and the dirty plates going like clockwork, and she hadn't pestered them with any questions. It couldn't have gone better if Damon had used compulsion. It wasn't until Enzo's sixth or seventh burger that Damon started to notice any improvement in his appearance.

"God, I don't know if it's because it's the first thing I've eaten in years or what," Enzo groaned, now going to town on burger number ten, "but I swear this is almost as good as blood."

"Don't worry; they'll still be that good when you're back to your old self."

"What else happens when I'm back to my old self?" said Enzo around the next bite, glancing up at Damon.

"Completely up to you," said Damon, who'd long since finished the single burger he'd gotten for himself. "There's a room in the boarding house for you if you want it, for as long as you want it. It's the least I can do. Considering that the mayor is a psychotic werewolf who is also in charge of a secret anti-vampire council, though, I'd get it if Mystic Falls wasn't your first choice for a place to recover from an Augustine cell. Plus, Grayson has this _rule_ about not killing humans." He rolled his eyes on this last part, but was sobered by the look on Enzo's face. Enzo had stopped eating as Damon spoke. By now, he'd progressed from walking skeleton to moderately emaciated. The slight fullness in his face made him more expressive. His eyes were wide and bright.

"This is real, isn't it? Two thirds of a century and I'm actually free?" His voice cracked as he said it.

"It's real, Enzo," said Damon, who felt his own eyes burning and swallowed hard.

"I keep thinking I'll wake up back in that cell."

"I thought I left you to die," said Damon. "I had no idea I left you to something worse."

"That you did," said Enzo matter-of-factly. "And I don't know if I can forgive you for that. Not as long as I can still smell that place on my skin. But it was only a fate worse than death until I got rescued. Besides, if I'd got out back then, Grayson wouldn't have been able to fix my lungs." Enzo's eyes were back on the burger. "When did you find out I was still in there?"

"Yesterday."

"Because you and Grayson are friends."

"Yeah." Damon wouldn't have said that a week ago, or even two days ago. Weird how forcing Grayson to tell him his whole story on pain of death had been enough to accomplish what even the ingenious werewolf bite cure hadn't. Maybe it was just that he hadn't fully understood how much they had in common before that, not least of which was Enzo himself.

"I suppose it's comforting to know you made sure I got out as soon as you knew I was still there to be gotten out."

They fell silent for a moment, Damon taking a long swig of the bourbon and Enzo smiling politely at Ellen when she brought round eleven. The only sign that she thought something odd was going on was that her eyebrows were higher every time she came back with the next burger and found that Enzo had cleaned yet another plate.

"Now then," said Enzo when she was back in the kitchen. "Enough of the heavy stuff. What would you say my chances are with the lovely young doctor who got me out of the lab?" He punctuated his question with a massive bite of the new burger, causing one of the sautéed mushrooms to fall out the other side on a long string of Swiss.

The bell on the door jingled, and Damon raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you should ask her yourself," he said. Enzo whipped around to follow Damon's gaze. Meredith and Jenna had just walked in, both laughing.

Jo, the waitress/bartender/seemingly every other position, went to greet them. "I _know_ you ladies didn't dress up that fancy to come here," she said, amused.

"We were at a dinner so fancy they didn't actually have dinner," said Jenna, rolling her eyes. "Now we need real food."

"Well that's exactly what we serve here," said Jo. "Table for two, then?"

"Actually," said Damon, who had vamp-sped across the room until he was standing just a few feet away (earning him a jump and a startled look from her), "You can put both of them on my bill."

"I can?" said Jo, looking pointedly at Meredith and Jenna.

"Sure!" said Meredith. "Don't worry, we know him."

"So he's not a pick-up artist?" said Jo, plainly unconvinced.

Jenna snorted. "We didn't say that."

Damon grinned lasciviously. "Look at that! You know me better than I thought."

Jo rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She handed them menus and returned to the bar.

The ladies were supplied with their burgers at the same time that Enzo received his twelfth. Jenna was happy to meet him for the first time, probably because his condition had now improved to the point that you knew for sure you weren't looking at someone who should have died of starvation weeks ago. Meredith was keener on overseeing his progress than eating her own food, but like Jenna, she seemed very happy in the aftermath of the successful rescue operation.

The sheer picturesque-ness of the scene was suddenly too much for Damon. "Can you let me out?" he said. "I need to make a call about Enzo's living arrangements."

Jenna obligingly slid out of the booth. It was a minor struggle for Damon not to use superhuman speed to leave the building. He pulled up his contacts list, which had swollen in the last month and a half to include each member of the Gilbert-Sommers family, Sheila and Bonnie Bennett, the Sheriff, Mrs. Lockwood, Anna, and Meredith. He flinched as his eyes involuntarily passed over "Cynicism Detox Hotline." Well, he'd gone about two hours without thinking about Elena. He scrolled down to the very bottom of the list and hit Select, then Call.

After four rings that felt more like eight, it went to voicemail. _"This is Zach Salvatore. Sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message."_

Damon growled in frustration, then ran his free hand over his face. After a pause, the beep came. "Zach, uh, look...," he began haltingly. "I'm not really sorry for what happened in May. You tried to kill me and nearly killed an innocent girl I care about instead, and I still think you got away pretty easy for that. But everything that happened before that... I'd take it back if I could. Anyway, the reason I'm calling is that I want to make you a deal. I've got an old friend who needs a place to stay. He's Grayson's friend too, if that tells you anything. His name's Enzo. If you invite him in, you and I'll be good. You could even come home if you wanted to. Your call."

For the briefest of moments, Damon felt the urge to mention what Grayson had told him about the baby who'd survived the massacre in '94, but he hung up before he could do anything that stupid. The only person he needed to talk to about that baby was Stefan, and in any case, the baby's survival didn't change what Damon had done.

X

Since Jeremy would be filling in the rest of the Gilberts on the plan, Anna took it upon herself to update the Salvatores. When she got to the boarding house, she threw open the door and tried to stride in like she owned the place, but apparently a human did, because she bounced off the threshold instead.

Stefan walked into view, arms folded over his chest, looking amused. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Anna?"

"Can you come outside?" she asked, scowling. "I don't want to talk through the doorway."

He followed her over to the short brick wall at the end of the front porch, and they both sat down. She was about to get down to business when she noticed a tremor in his hands. He saw her looking and clenched them against his jeans.

"You doing okay, there?" she asked.

"What's it to you?"

Anna frowned. Rudeness was Damon's territory, not Stefan's. It only took her a few seconds to work it out, though. "You're a ripper, aren't you?" she said quietly. Just because she thought he and his brother were idiots, it didn't mean she couldn't feel sorry for him.

"Yeah," said Stefan, a hollow look taking place of the grumpiness on his face. His shoulders slumped and he stared at his hands.

"My mother and I met one a few centuries ago. It wasn't pretty."

"It's so much harder to keep it together when I'm on human blood!" Stefan burst out, "but Dr. Gilbert says animal blood doesn't have the right nutrients, and Damon thinks I can learn control. I still think it'd be safer if they'd just locked me up. I'm more dangerous than Richard Lockwood will ever be."

"Come on, nothing happened today, did it? Even with Damon and the Gilberts out of town. Just keep taking baby steps."

"That's what Damon says."

Anna laughed. "What do you know, he is capable of an intelligent thought every once in a while."

Stefan gave a reluctant smirk at that. "So what did you come here for, anyway?"

"To give you the heads up on how we're going to get the sheriff to find Tanner's body."

X

Elena received a text from her mom at around eleven at night. Bonnie and Caroline hurried her out the door with bracing reassurances that she barely heard. When she arrived home, she found both her parents and Jeremy all gathered in the living room, clearly in deep discussion. They looked around at her entrance.

"Jeremy was just telling us about the plan he, Tyler, and Anna came up with so that Liz will discover Coach Tanner's remains," said Grayson. He looked back at Jeremy. "Want to start over?"

Elena stared at the three people she loved most in the world. The people who were not her father, mother, and brother, but apparently her uncle, aunt, and cousin. Before Jeremy could start speaking, she blurted out, "Am I adopted?"

X

Damon's phone rang sooner than he expected. It was just after eleven, and he, Enzo, Meredith, and Jenna had all left Harvelle's half an hour before, Enzo having eaten a grand total of twenty burgers and ten servings of fries. Damon flipped open his phone. It was Zach. He accepted the call and put the phone to his ear, pretending not to notice the curious look Enzo was shooting his way. "Hey, Zach," he said, tone carefully neutral.

 _"Did you mean it?"_

"Yeah."

 _"Give the phone to your friend."_

Damon passed the phone to Enzo, who looked at it in fascination before putting it to his ear.

"Hello?"

 _"Enzo?"_

"That would be me."

 _"Good. I invite you into the boarding house."_ The line clicked.

* * *

No, the Ellen and Jo here are not hunters. I just couldn't resist using Harvelle's as the bar and grill Damon and Enzo stopped at. (I'm still bitter about what happened to Ellen and Jo, though, even though it's been seven years.) Also, before I decided to make it Harvelle's, this was how Damon's conversation with the restaurant employee was going to go:

*using compulsion* "Give me all the cheeseburgers you have. Wait. I fear what you heard was 'Give me a lot of cheeseburgers.' What I said was "Give me _all_ the cheeseburgers you have. Do you understand?"

In the end, I decided the SPN reference would be more fun than a P&R one. As to the title of the chapter, it was originally going to be "Salvatore's Five," in keeping with the heist movie title theme from last chapter, but then I realized that there are just _so many_ friendships in this chapter. Damon and Enzo, Jenna and Meredith, Grayson and Damon, Grayson and Enzo, Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline, and Jeremy, Anna, and Tyler. So yeah. New title.

I promise we're getting closer to dealing with Elena's memory loss. Please let me know what you thought! Reviews are life.


	6. Better to Have Loved and Lost

Maybe I should drop all pretenses and just plan to publish on the first of each month? Whatever. Here's the new chapter! Also, to the reviewer who asked if there will ever be Klaus/Caroline in this, hahahahaha, no. There is no ship I loathe more in any fictional universe than Klaus/Caroline. Apart from Buffy/Spike. Besides, this story is nowhere near the arrival of Klaus. It's still the summer before S1 started, and even Isobel hasn't shown up yet!

* * *

Elena's gaze flicked back and forth between Miranda and Grayson, whose eyes were wide and mouths had fallen open. The silence, however, was broken by Jeremy.

"Adopted! What are you talking about?" He stared at their parents too, clearly expecting them to tell her it was a crazy idea.

"Yes," said Grayson, meeting Elena's gaze. Jeremy sank back in his chair.

"We were going to tell you on your birthday this summer," said Miranda. She closed her eyes and sighed. "We were going to tell you about your birth parents when you turned seventeen and we were going to tell you about the supernatural when you turned eighteen."

The room blurred as Elena's eyes filled with tears. "What, you didn't think I could handle it?"

"No!" said Miranda and Grayson together in distress, both getting to their feet, but Elena backed away, shaking her head. Before they could stop her, she sprinted to her room and locked the door behind her behind her.

X

Anna didn't stay on the porch long, and her departure from the boarding house left Stefan free to resume the internal battle he'd been fighting before she showed up. All those blood bags sitting in the freezer downstairs. What was a few extra tonight? They'd gotten more than enough to last through the end of the month, which was when Dr. Gilbert estimated Damon would be fully cured. Besides, if Stefan ran through them a few days faster than he was scheduled to, that would only mean he'd spend fewer days drinking leftovers, and they could restock with another blood drive.

He was standing in front of the freezer before he realized he'd moved, reaching for the handle, when he heard gravel crunch outside, and he froze. Car doors opened and closed without the engine shutting off (which meant he couldn't hear what the people who had just arrived were saying), and two pairs of footsteps moved in a direction that didn't sound like the front door while the car drove away. Stefan thought he could probably finish off one bag before anyone came inside.

"Now _this_ is more like it," said a voice he'd never heard before. Male, and British. Stefan's hand stopped moving again.

"Once you've _thoroughly_ convinced me you didn't forget how to drive while you were in that cell, I'll let you take her for a spin."

Stefan's confusion and curiosity at the sound of his brother having a friendly conversation with someone he knew nothing about was finally enough to trump his hunger. The next second, he was back up the cellar stairs and out the front door. Damon was standing next to his Camaro while a very skinny man with shaggy brown hair and stubble and ill-fitting clothing walked around it, an appreciative look on his face.

The stranger was the first one to notice Stefan's presence.

"Stefan Salvatore, I presume?" he said. "Lorenzo St. John. Your new housemate, apparently. Call me Enzo."

"Housemate?" said Stefan.

Damon turned around. He had that look he usually wore when he was trying to feign nonchalance, but Stefan could see the tension in his jaw. "Yeah," he said. "The Gilberts don't have a spare room and we have five, Zach already invited Enzo in, and as good as the odds are of Meredith Fell coming over all Florence Nightingale, we can't risk him bumping into anyone else with her last name as long as her uncle is still capable of identifying him, so shacking up with her is out too."

"Is 'shacking up' the 21st century's term for courtship, then?" said Enzo.

"Yep," said Damon, completely straight-faced, before shooting Stefan a look that said he was not to disagree.

"Sounds a bit inelegant, if you ask me."

"Uh, what the hell is going on?" said Stefan.

Damon hesitated for a second, then let out a barely discernable sigh. "I'm gonna need more bourbon for this."

X

Jenna arrived home after driving back from Harvelle's alone (Meredith had gone with Damon and Enzo so she could more easily reclaim her car) to find it in a state of quiet upheaval. Grayson was pacing the hallway at the top of the stairs and Miranda was talking to Jeremy on the couch, her face tear-streaked and his very white.

Happiness and triumph draining out of her, Jenna cautiously approached her sister and nephew, gratefully removing her high heels along the way. "What's going on?"

"Elena found out she's adopted," said Miranda.

Jenna's stomach dropped. "Where is she?"

"She locked herself in her room. Grayson's trying to get her to come out and talk to us, but she hasn't said a word since she shut the door."

"Would you be ready to talk to anyone if you were her?" said Jeremy suddenly. Both sisters looked at him. He was looking at his knees. "I know you didn't mean it this way, but her whole life probably feels like a lie right now. In a way, it's a more important secret than vampires, werewolves, and magic."

"I think he's right," said Jenna, looking back at Miranda. "It's a pretty big thing to process. She just needs some time."

Miranda's face crumpled. "She looked so betrayed," she said, chest heaving. "I just want to hold her and tell her I'm sorry and that she's mine no matter what."

Jenna went to her sister and hugged her tight.

X

"That's where you were?" said Stefan, a deepening pit in his stomach. At the time, he'd been completely bewildered by Joseph Salvatore's murder; it had only occurred to him to blame Damon when he saw him again years later, so cold, cruel, and dismissive. He'd obviously shut his humanity off. When nothing Stefan (or, more accurately, Lexi) did had been able to bring him back to himself, bitterness and anger had eventually swallowed up brotherly concern.

But to find out that Damon had, in his words, had his body donated to science against his will by his own nephew… It explained so much. For the first time, Stefan felt that he had utterly failed as a brother—and not in the sense of failing to stop Damon from doing wrong. In the past, he had mostly only felt like Damon was the one who failed him. Big brothers were supposed to set an example and be protectors and friends, and it seemed Damon had done a better job of that than Stefan had ever given him credit for, but what had Stefan ever done for him, aside from forcing him to become a vampire when he wanted to die? Did using his own blood to save Damon from dying of werewolf toxin now make up for the decades he'd spent believing only the worst about him? If one human girl Damon had only just met could bring out the best in a month and a half, what could Stefan have done over the last _century_ and a half if he'd ever really tried?

"He waited for you to rescue him," said Enzo over the rim of his tumbler of bourbon.

Stefan saw Damon shoot Enzo a glare, which only made him feel worse. Damon _was_ protecting him. How many other times had he tried to protect him that he hadn't recognized, even if it was only from his own feelings of guilt?

"I looked for you after I found Joseph's body. I couldn't find any trace of where you'd gone, but I never thought you'd been _captured_." Despite their differences and despite Stefan's clear failures, he had always taken for granted that his big brother could handle anything. It hadn't occurred to him for a second that Damon could ever be made the victim or prisoner of anyone—his own disastrous attempts to hold Damon prisoner in the cellar only seemed to prove that. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't occur to me," said Damon, refilling his own tumbler. His tone was indifferent, but Stefan could tell he was faking. Did Damon not trust him with his real reasons, or was he just protecting him from more painful truths? Either way, Stefan didn't press it.

"How did you get out?"

This time, the look Stefan saw Damon shoot Enzo was full of guilt and remorse, although those emotions were only visible for a second. He told the story, by the end of which all three of them had consumed full tumblers of bourbon. Enzo took over after Damon reached the part about walking away from the burning house, explaining the connection between himself and Dr. Gilbert.

"Well, unless there's anything else, I'd like to sleep in an actual bed for the first time since before I went to fight in World War II. Where's that room you mentioned?"

"Up the stairs, first door on the right," said Damon.

"Cheers," said Enzo, and he left the parlor without another word. It was a while before either Salvatore broke the ensuing silence.

"Damon, I—" Stefan began, but Damon cut across him before he could make any headway towards an apology.

"When Grayson was telling me his whole backstory, he mentioned the day of the solar eclipse in '94," he said. Stefan opened his mouth, confused about what that had to do with anything, but Damon shot him a piercing look. "He said he was able to save the baby of a pregnant woman killed in the attack."

Stefan closed his eyes. He'd hoped never to have this conversation with Damon, but maybe the reasons he'd hoped for that didn't matter anymore. "Her name is Sarah," he said. "She just turned fifteen."

"Does Zach—"

"No. I thought he'd be better off not knowing she ever existed."

"You mean you thought he and Sarah would both be better off if _I_ never found out she existed," said Damon.

Stefan flinched. He understood now that Damon had only killed Joseph in self-defense, and he'd been left with very good reasons to dislike the man's descendants, even if his treatment of Zach had still been unfair and there was no excuse for killing Gail and all those boarders. "None of our half-brother's descendants have exactly led safe, happy lives, whether we had anything to do with it or not," he said, meeting Damon's eyes. He thought he saw a flicker behind them, and hoped Damon understood that he no longer suspected he'd had anything to do with Zachariah's death. "After the eclipse, I thought she'd at least have a shot at it if she didn't know her real family."

"I'm not gonna do anything to Zach, unless he gives me a reason," said Damon. "But I don't think he's better off not knowing he has a daughter."

Stefan looked over at him. "If he knew that, he'd have to know about Gail, and why his daughter doesn't have a mother."

Damon shrugged. "If he's going to keep hating me, he might as well do it for the right reasons."

"I wonder which of us he'll hate more. You killed Gail, but I stole fifteen years of his daughter's life from him."

X

The room behind the first door on the right at the top of the stairs was bigger than the whole main lab room in the basement of Whitmore house. This entire evening still felt incredibly surreal to Enzo. He was free. Not one, but both of his best friends had come back for him. He'd had dreams before, of being rescued by either Damon or Grayson. Hell, he'd even had dreams of Lily or Maggie somehow coming back to him. But this time it was real. He supposed it would have to sink in eventually.

He sat down on the edge of the king-sized bed and let out a groan. He couldn't remember the last time he'd sat—let alone slept—on a surface this comfortable, if he ever had. But he wasn't tired enough for sleep yet. He got up and explored the room. The furniture was all rich, dark wood, and the walls were bare except for a large black rectangle hanging above the dresser directly across from the bed. He'd never seen anything like it and would have investigated further if he hadn't suddenly become aware of how grimy he felt compared with the clean set of clothing Damon had lent him, so he made his way instead to the ensuite bathroom.

He had almost lost control of his emotions at Harvelle's, but having the freedom to properly wash himself under a stream of steaming hot water was what truly undid him. He'd only ever been given a bucket of cold water and a bar of soap in his cell. He stood there, hands pressed to the tile, shoulders heaving with sobs as the water rushed over him, for he knew not how long.

X

On Sunday morning, not wanting to face the members of the family she wasn't as much a part of as she'd believed her whole life, Elena fled the house before anyone else was awake. She drove with no real destination in mind. The library and Grill were closed on Sundays and wouldn't be open yet anyway. The park in the town square had more people in it than she wanted to be around right now. She didn't want to hear more comforting words from Bonnie or Caroline, and she couldn't contemplate trying to do anything about the memories Damon Salvatore had stolen from her while the fact of her adoption took center stage in her thoughts.

Eventually, she found herself pulling into the cemetery. She parked and began walking through it. She didn't know why so many people thought cemeteries were eerie. She'd always felt rather peaceful in them, especially on a breezy Sunday morning like this one. She headed for the same two plots she always visited when she came here: the Gilbert plot and the Sommers one. They weren't far apart. She had very dim memories of Grandma Sommers—but she wasn't really Elena's grandmother, was she? Emma Gilbert still was, if Uncle John really was her father. She wondered if that meant she had a pair of living grandparents out there somewhere. The mysterious Isobel's mother and father.

"Elena?" said a familiar voice, sounding surprised.

Elena turned around. Matt was standing a couple of headstones away, a bouquet of wildflowers he'd probably just picked in his hand. "Hey, Matt," she said. "Did you come to see Vicki?"

"Yeah," he said heavily. "We just got the headstone yesterday." Then he frowned. "Are you crying? What's wrong?"

Elena wiped hastily at the tears she didn't realize she had shed. "I'm fine!" she said.

"Wanna try that on someone who hasn't known you your whole life?" he said, one eyebrow raised, though his amusement didn't seem strong enough to break through his overall sadness.

"Okay, maybe I'm not fine," said Elena, looking down.

"Talk to me," he said. "We're friends again, right? You've been there for me about Vicki." He waved the bouquet of wildflowers vaguely. "Let me be there for you too."

She scuffed the grass a bit with the toe of her right sneaker. "I found out I'm adopted."

X

Damon stood in the great room with his hands splayed on the drinks table. Elena hadn't noticed that Matt Donovan wasn't her only company at the cemetery. Edgar was perched on a low branch of the tree nearest her. Damon had had him follow her when she left the house, telling himself it was just a precautionary measure in case she got into trouble. For some reason, as soon as the blond football player had joined her, Edgar had wanted to fly straight at him and peck him a few times on the head until he left Elena alone. Damon only hesitated a fraction of a second before stopping the strangely possessive corvid from carrying out that plan.

Even though Elena was plainly not in trouble, Damon used Edgar to eavesdrop on her conversation with Donovan anyway. It was difficult to watch her open up to someone else—particularly a male someone else she had only recently stopped dating. If he hadn't wiped her memory, he'd be the one holding her while she cried about being adopted.

"What's that face about?"

Damon looked around, the "Edgar-Cam" shifting to the back of his mind. Enzo had joined him, now cleanshaven. "Nothing," he said.

"I wouldn't call stalking your girlfriend through a raven minion 'nothing'," said Stefan, coming up from the cellar with a half-finished blood bag.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Damon snapped automatically, then mentally kicked himself for being such a cliché.

"No, she wouldn't be," said Stefan. His breakfast had clearly put him back in jackass mode. It tended to fluctuate based on how recently he'd had blood. "Not after you compelled her to forget you."

"Whoa now," said Enzo, sounding amused. "Who's this girl?"

"Shut it, Stefan," Damon snarled.

Stefan ignored him. "Dr. Gilbert's daughter."

"Wow," said Enzo. "You're an idiot, mate."

"You're one to talk!" said Damon indignantly. He'd hoped no one else would have to find out about the whole Elena memory wipe situation, but he'd thought Enzo of all people would get it. "You told me what you did to Maggie."

"Yeah! And look where that got me. Anyway, are we going to go see Grayson this morning or what?"

X

Elena and Matt were sitting at the base of a large statue that faced Vicki's simple headstone, now adorned with the flowers he had brought. She had told him what she knew so far about her biological parents, but mostly she had just wondered aloud about what this said about the level of trust her adoptive parents really had in her.

"I think a lot of kids with parents who are still married and actually like each other don't realize their parents are just people," said Matt after a long—though not uncomfortable—silence.

"What else would they be?" said Elena, looking at him askance.

"You know what I mean," said Matt. His brow furrowed as he searched for the right words. "My parents have never been like that. My dad ditched us before I was born, and I love Mom, but I know what she's like. I felt really guilty about it, but there were a lot of times when I couldn't help wondering what it would've been like for me and Vicki if Mom had just given us away. And the new parents I always pictured? They looked a lot like your mom and dad."

Elena watched Matt's profile, her insides twisting. They had almost never acknowledged the sharp differences in their situations, and she had definitely never known he envied her for her parents.

"So they screwed up and didn't tell you about this a long time ago," he went on. "So what? They're not perfect, but they still have their crap together better than just about anyone else in this town, and they love you. You got to be a kid thanks to them, because they took care of you and weren't trainwrecks of human beings. Take it from someone who never really had that: it's worth a few secrets."

X

Damon and Enzo beat Grayson to the clinic.

"Well this is unsettling," said Enzo, staring around at Grayson's lab.

"Tell me about it," said Damon.

"I heard about Grayson's other test subject from Maxfield," said Enzo, eyes on the empty cell in the corner. "It doesn't bother you that he spent years torturing a vampire in here like the way we were tortured at Whitmore?"

"Nope."

"You're one callous bastard, do you know that?"

"I wanted to kill him when I first found out, but the vampire Grayson tortured here killed his parents, nearly killed his little brother, and was plotting to help kill his daughter and anyone else who got in the way of that. And he regrets it anyway. I've done worse than that for revenge over less."

"You mean the Whitmore family. I heard about what happened to them too. My surgeons made a habit of mentioning it whenever they came up with particularly gruesome experiments."

Damon winced. "If I'd known I was making things worse for you..." An apology was struggling to force its way out of his throat. He swallowed. How the hell could any apology make up for leaving your best friend to die in a fire, unwittingly abandoning him to five more decades of torture? Fortunately, Grayson chose that moment to arrive. He was carrying a paper bag and looked like he hadn't slept well, but he forced a stiff smile at the sight of Enzo.

"You look much better today."

"Cheeseburgers," said Enzo, patting his stomach with a look of contentment. "Lots of cheeseburgers. Plus a hot shower, access to a razor, and sleeping on an actual bed."

"I'm glad I was right about a vampire's ability to recover from starvation so quickly." He handed Enzo the bag.

"What's this?" said Enzo. He reached inside and pulled out a book. From where he was standing, Damon could see 'Terry Brooks' emblazoned on the spine, but not the title. "What—there are four more books in the series now?!"

"Actually there are twelve, and he's still cranking them out," said Grayson. "I bought two copies of each new one as it came out, in case…" He broke off, swallowing and looking away. Damon felt like an intruder. "I can get you the first few if you need to refresh your memory. Let me know when you finish them. I'd love to discuss them with you, like we used to."

"So, the Augustines," said Damon, slightly louder than necessary.

"Right," said Grayson. "The Augustines. I have an idea."

X

Caroline pulled up to the Salvatore boarding house, both excited and nervous. The girls' night with Bonnie and Elena had been just what she needed to figure things out. Somehow, putting the existence of monsters and magic alongside something ordinary yet serious like Elena's adoption had made it easier to assimilate it all into her understanding of the world. Just because vampires, werewolves, and witches were real, it didn't mean the stuff of normal life no longer mattered, and that was incredibly comforting.

As to Stefan, what mattered most to Caroline now that she'd had time to think about it wasn't that he was a vampire, it was that he was the first boy she'd liked who had opened up to her like that. He'd made her feel respected and valued—important, even if she wasn't specifically important to him yet (because she could tell that she liked him more than he liked her). All of that somehow made him more attractive to her than the fact that he was stupidly gorgeous.

She strode up to the door and knocked confidently. She had a second to wonder what she would do if it was Damon who opened it instead of Stefan. Rip him a new one for messing with Elena's memories when she was obviously nuts about him, maybe. But it was Stefan after all.

"Caroline!" he said. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you again this soon."

"I never let the grass grow under my feet when it comes to making decisions."

"So you made a decision already?"

"Yes," she said. "I've decided that you being a vampire is not a deal-breaker." He started to smile, but she held up a finger and gave him a stern look. "However. I'm not a crazy person. This is new territory for me, so I think your idea of taking it slow and getting to know each other is a good one." As much as she'd enjoyed making out with him. She tried not to think about that. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said, his smile returning. She, on the other hand, frowned.

"Hey, where's Damon, anyway? Are you alone here?"

"Yeah, he went to meet with Dr. Gilbert."

"About Vicki Donovan's murder? Why aren't you there?"

"No, not about that." He ran a hand through his hair. "It's complicated. And I'd actually really like to talk to you about it, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone with me this far away from anyone else."

"Why not?" said Caroline, feeling a little miffed, but trying not to show it.

"That's...complicated too. If I were still drinking animal blood, it would be one thing, but Dr. Gilbert had me switch to drinking human blood—from blood bags, not people—because Damon got bit by a werewolf and he needs transfusions from me to survive."

"Why does that mean I can't be alone with you?" said Caroline, taking half a step closer. His nostrils flared and he retreated the same distance. She froze, trying not to pout.

"I'm dangerous when I'm on human blood. More dangerous than most vampires. I don't want to hurt you—or anyone, but the bloodlust is stronger than me. It changes the way I think until all that matters is blood and I can't even remember why attacking people is wrong. I don't know if that can ever change, but no human should be alone with me until it does."

"Being a vampire sounds terrible," said Caroline, a swell of sympathy rising in her chest. She wanted to give him a hug, but she worried that would only make things harder for him.

"It is, most of the time," said Stefan glumly.

Caroline's resolve hardened. "Okay. I'll go. But I'm gonna call you when I get home, and then you can talk to me about Damon and Dr. Gilbert."

He gave a wry smile. "Thanks."

X

"I still think it would be more fun to kill them," said Damon.

"It's no less than they deserve," said Enzo, the tendons standing out on the backs of his clenched fists.

"Fun or not," said Grayson patiently, "deserved or not, you should know by now that it's not an effective way of destroying the society. You think they don't plan for this? That they don't know what they're up against? No one member knows the identities of all the other members, and there are many copies of all of the research. There are code words, check-ins. So many redundancies. You kill one or even a handful of them and the rest will be in the wind, with compelling arguments to rally new recruits to replace the dead."

"Fine then," said Enzo. "Plan B."

"Really?" said Damon. "After what they did to you, you're going to throw away a chance at revenge that easily?"

"I didn't say you couldn't get revenge," said Grayson, which wiped the attitude out of Damon. "I just said killing them won't work."

"Their minds," said Enzo. "Take away everything they've worked for without them even realizing it, and it's as good as killing them. Does a man really still exist if he's forgotten what mattered to him?"

Grayson nodded. "To begin, we just need one of them off vervain."

"How do you get a member of a super-secret society that's been around this long off vervain?" said Damon. The attitude was back.

Grayson didn't reply. He'd been the father of two teenagers long enough to be immune to sass when he needed to be. He walked over to the window well on the far side of the lab, selected one of the potted plants off the sill, and carried it back over. He set it down on the table between Damon and Enzo.

"You brought us a vervain plant," said Damon. "Thanks."

"Touch it," said Grayson.

Damon looked like he was about to say something very sarcastic, but Enzo robbed him of the opportunity by reaching out and plucking a leaf off the plant, which failed entirely to burn his skin. Damon frowned.

"That's _Hyssopus officinalis_. Commonly known as blue hyssop," said Grayson. "It's not even in the verbenaceae family, though it's only the species in the verbena genus that burn vampires. Most people would need an extensive knowledge of horticulture to distinguish it from the more common local verbena species."

"Decoy vervain?" said Damon, copying Enzo and plucking off a leaf. A grin formed on his face. "How long have you had that up your sleeve?"

"About eighteen years," said Grayson grimly.

The silence that filled the lab after he said it was so oppressive that it felt almost solid. The grin on Damon's face died, and Enzo stared fixedly at his own hands on the table. "Why did it take you this long?" said Enzo. His tone was gruff, but there was the faintest hint of pleading in it. It brought a lump up in Grayson's throat, and he saw Damon's jaws clench.

"Because I was a fool and a coward. I probably don't deserve it, but I hope you can forgive me someday, even if it takes another eighteen years."

X

Since it was such a nice day outside, Stefan went for a walk through the forest while he talked to Caroline on the phone. He told her as much as he felt he could about Enzo and the creepy society that had held him and Damon prisoner without betraying Damon's trust. She was a good audience, even though he couldn't see her face, and it was a relief not to have to fight against any bloodlust while they talked.

 _"Why did it bother you so much to find out about this stuff?"_ she asked. _"Aside from the obvious, I mean. Anyone would be bothered to find out their brother was tortured for years."_

Stefan crested the ridge of a hill, wending between the trees. "I don't know. It's not just that I didn't know that had it happened, it's that...well, I thought I couldn't find him all those years because he was avoiding _me_. He was sitting in a cell hoping I'd rescue him, but when I couldn't find him anywhere, I assumed he was ditching me on purpose and didn't care about me. If I'd stopped thinking Damon's entire existence revolved around me for just a second, maybe I would've realized Joseph probably gave him a pretty good reason to shove a crystal tumbler through his throat. I could've lived up to the faith Damon had in me. So I guess what really bothers me is realizing how much my crappy relationship with my brother is my fault."

 _"Okay,"_ said Caroline. _"How are you going to fix it?"_

"You don't think it's too broken to fix?"

There was a brief burst of static from her exhaling heavily into the mouthpiece. _"I watched my parents go through a really bad divorce. Even when there are serious obstacles, a relationship is only too broken to fix when you don't care enough to try anymore. It sounds to me like you care a whole hell of a lot, and I don't think Damon would've told you all that stuff if he didn't still care too. He could've just been like 'This is Enzo, he's gonna be staying here, deal with it.'"_

Stefan couldn't help the laughter that escaped him—not just because her attempt to sound like Damon was hilarious, but because her words had made him more hopeful than he could've imagined feeling when he woke up that morning. "Thanks, Caroline. I'm really glad I could talk to you about this."

 _"Anytime, Stefan,"_ she said.

After they hung up, he took off running full-speed, feeling jubilant. He reached the falls the town was named for and leaped to the top in a single bound. He would find a way to make it up to Damon for all the times he'd failed him, and he would stop expecting Damon to fail. He would stop thinking about him and Damon as "the good brother" and "the bad brother" and instead think of them as simply brothers. He still wasn't happy about what Damon had done to Elena, but she wasn't the only one who could influence things for the better.

He heard a group of hikers about a hundred yards away from him through the woods. The skin on his cheeks felt tight and his eyeteeth itched, but he barely gave them a passing thought as he raced back to the boarding house. He had work to do.

X

Satisfied with how they would carry out the first phase of the plan, Damon and Enzo got up to leave Grayson's lab. On the threshold, Enzo turned back. "You wouldn't happen to know a good barber around here, would you?" he asked, waving a hand vaguely at his shaggy hair.

"Yeah, Bob Fitzgerald, a few buildings down from here. He's my secretary's husband. But he's not open Sundays."

"That's fine," said Enzo. "I'll go tomorrow morning."

Grayson raised an eyebrow. "Trying to impress someone?" He raised his coffee mug, but not quickly enough to hide his slight smirk.

"Well I don't imagine looking like a mangy stray is the best approach if I want to shack up with Meredith Fell," said Enzo. Grayson promptly spat out his mouthful of coffee. Enzo's expression flattened, and he rounded on Damon, who wore the least convincing innocent look he'd ever seen. "That _isn't_ the 21st century's word for courtship, is it?"

"Nope!" said Damon cheerfully. Enzo cuffed him over the head and looked around at Grayson in time to see his shoulders shaking with laughter as he grabbed some paper towels to clean up the spray of coffee.

The two vampires headed out, Damon still giggling. Keen to put an end to that, once they'd both climbed into the Camaro, Enzo said, "You've noticed it, right?"

"Noticed what?" said Damon, turning the key in the ignition.

"The irony that what we're planning to do to our enemies, you already did to a girl you care about."

"You don't know anything about that," said Damon through clenched teeth, not looking at Enzo.

"Then you _didn't_ compel her to forget you?"

"She's better off without me, and this way only one of us has to hurt over it."

"What makes you so sure she's better off?"

"She's a sixteen-year-old girl and I'm a hundred-sixty-nine-year-old asshole vampire. Do I really have to explain that? Besides, if I hadn't done it, she'd hate me after what she saw in my head."

"So you think she's better off without you, but you don't want to her to hate you? That's a bit of a contradiction, isn't it? Seems to me that her hating you would be the easiest way to keep her away. At least then she'd still be herself."

X

When Elena returned to the house, it became clear that everyone had been waiting anxiously for her, probably resisting the urge to hound her with calls and texts about where she'd gone. She appreciated that, even though everything still felt wrong. Miranda and Grayson stood hesitantly from their seats on the couch and came over to her.

"Hey," she said hoarsely, taking half a step towards them. This was invitation enough from her for both of them to engulf her in a tight hug. She hugged them back with all her strength, but part of her felt like no matter how tightly she hung on, she was sitting in a lifeboat that had been cut loose from the main ship.

"We understand why you're upset," said Miranda. "I don't know why we thought keeping it from you this long was a good idea."

"I think you were infected by this town's obsession with secrets," said Jenna, who was leaning against the arm of the chair Jeremy was curled up in. "Secret Council, secret meetings, secret tomb, secret heirlooms, secret alliances."

Grayson chuckled, but it sounded a little bitter. He looked at Jenna and Jeremy. "I'm not sure secrets have ever done this family much good." Then he looked at Miranda. They seemed to communicate silently in that way they sometimes did, and then she bit her lip and nodded. "Come on," said Grayson, sliding his arm around Elena's shoulders. "There's a lot we should all talk about."

X

Damon could smell something delicious before he even stepped out of the car at the boarding house.

"What is that?" said Enzo, and his stomach actually growled.

"I think Stefan's been dusting off his cooking skills."

Sure enough, when they went inside, they found Stefan in the kitchen, surrounded by used cutting boards and steaming pots and pans, his shirt spotted with flour.

"You've been busy," Damon observed.

"I thought I'd do what I could to help Enzo finish bouncing back from starvation," he said. "Burgers aren't the only good food." He pointed to different dishes. "There's penne alfredo with shrimp, spaghetti Bolognese, margherita pizza, breadsticks, and—" A buzzer went off, and he sped over to the oven and pulled out the largest pan yet. "—Lasagna."

"We didn't have the ingredients for all of this stuff," said Damon. "And your little toy car still doesn't work. Did you _run_ to the store and back?"

"It's only two miles away," said Stefan, going back to stir the Bolognese. "If you ever do that, though, make sure you ask for paper instead of plastic."

"Well it all smells incredible," said Enzo. "I don't know where to start!"

"I'll bring up a bottle of wine while you decide," said Damon. He headed down into the cellar. What the hell had brought this on? Last night, Stefan hadn't seemed very happy when Damon brought a surprise houseguest back with him, and even though the long conversation that followed hadn't sucked as badly as he'd expected it to, Stefan had gone back to being pretty bratty by morning. He grabbed a bottle of red wine without really paying attention and went back upstairs. He shot many quizzical looks Stefan's way while the three of them ate, Enzo plowing steadily through about 90% of everything Stefan had cooked, by the end of which he looked healthier than Damon had _ever_ seen him.

X

"You got pregnant three other times?" said Jeremy. It was late in the afternoon by now. With Jenna occasionally contributing, Grayson and Miranda had told Elena and Jeremy everything they'd tried to protect them from their whole lives, from Enzo and the Augustines, to John and Isobel, to Mikael and what really caused their Gilbert grandparents' deaths, to Klaus and doppelgängers, to Miranda's heartrending series of miscarriages.

Jeremy and Elena were sitting together on the sofa, asking occasional questions but mostly listening and frequently tearing up. Jeremy hadn't said anything to Elena yet about how he felt about her being his cousin instead of his sister, but when she tried to sit down by herself on the loveseat, he'd gotten up from the chair and sat beside her, so close that their knees, hips, and shoulders were touching. Elena hadn't needed him to say anything after that.

"Yeah," said Miranda, smiling through her tears. She and Grayson sat across from them on the couch, Grayson's arm around her and his other hand squeezing hers on her knee. "We always wanted a big family since we love kids and both only grew up with one sibling."

"But didn't it hurt to keep trying after the babies you lost?" said Elena. She couldn't believe she could've had three more siblings.

"More than you can ever know," said Miranda.

"That's why we haven't told you two before," said Grayson. "You were too little to understand the first time anyway, and for the other two, we knew there might be complications, and we didn't want to get your hopes up."

"You can't always protect us from pain and sadness, Dad," said Jeremy. "The good times matter, but the hard times—I mean, I've never felt closer to all of you than I have this summer. This _week_. And it's because we've been in this together."

"Yeah," said Elena. "That's what makes a family." She looked at Miranda. "Trust. Not blood."

Miranda smiled again, even as her tears fell faster.

"Both of you are so grown up," said Grayson, his voice rough. "Maybe we thought we could keep you as our little kids just a bit longer if we waited to tell you these things, but time waits for no one."

"We don't just have sad, hard secrets to tell you today, though," said Miranda, her smile brightening. "There's one that we hope will be very happy."

"How do you think you'll like having a baby brother or sister?" said Grayson.

"Oh my God, really?!" said Elena, clapping her hands to her cheeks.

"You mean you still can?" said Jeremy.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Miranda, in mock offense while Jenna burst out laughing. "I'm only thirty-six. What on earth did they teach you in that health and human development class last semester?"

Elena and Grayson joined in laughing with Jenna while Jeremy went bright red. "I know you're not _old_ , Mom! But this baby's gonna be fifteen years younger than me. That seemed like a lot, is all."

Elena stopped laughing, her excitement and hilarity dying away as she remembered the miscarriages. "Things are going okay this time?"

The adults all sobered as well. "Better than they have since Jeremy," said Miranda. "But it'll still be a few weeks before I start showing."

X

When Elena went to bed that night, her mind was still awhirl with everything her parents—yes, _her parents_ —had told her. Powerful vampires had wanted her dead since she was a baby. Her dad had been friends with a vampire before she was born, even though he'd been part of yet _another_ secret anti-vampire society at the time. And she was going to be a big sister again. She'd already considered her mom to be one of the strongest women she knew, but she'd had no idea how strong she really was.

Elena didn't really feel scared when she thought about what it meant that she was a doppelgänger. Her parents had taken that Mikael guy down, and that was without help from any vampire allies. Now they had four, plus a werewolf. If Klaus ever even found out where she was—and how would he? Mikael only found out because he practically walked into her—he'd have a hard time getting to her.

Hearing what her parents had done to protect her was what finally banished any insecurities she still had about being adopted. It made sense why she'd written in her journal about Damon acting weirdly overprotective even when there didn't seem to be a threat. He'd known about the danger and was just trying to keep her safe.

Her last thought before she fell asleep was about the vampire her parents and aunt had rescued. Enzo. Why did his name seem so familiar?

X

On Monday morning, all over Mystic Falls, dozens of cell phones lit up with text alerts, including those belonging to Jeremy, Anna, Matt, Elena, Bonnie, Caroline, and Stefan. Tyler Lockwood was throwing a party at the old Lockwood property that night. The text included directions to get there, instructions to bring something to swim in, and the promise of booze.

X

Enzo quirked an eyebrow at the sight of Meredith Fell entering the lab under Grayson's clinic. She was dressed in a lab coat and scrubs today instead of a fancy cocktail dress, a stethoscope around her neck and a clipboard in hand. "You know this little checkup really isn't necessary," he said, though he was careful not to give her the impression that he was annoyed. "I'd have died a long time ago if vampires weren't capable of bouncing back from just about anything."

"Well there's no harm in making sure," she said, pulling a narrow-beamed torch out of her pocket and shining it briefly in each of his eyes. "God only knows what they've been doing to you in that place. I want to make sure there haven't been any lasting effects, or any other fun little capsules implanted under your skin."

"I appreciate the concern."

"How are you feeling?" she asked, now wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his right bicep and velcroing it in place.

Enzo shrugged. "It's difficult to know how to feel when, after seventy-odd years of vivisection, torture, and starvation, I've just been rescued by a vampire and a vampire hunter, each of whom has at one point abandoned me even though I was quite a charming friend, and neither of whom I ever would have expected to be friends with _each other_. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around that." He glanced sideways at the young, beautiful doctor. "But then, I suppose there's also you. What prompted you to be part of such a dubious rescue mission?"

"Grayson asked me if I wanted to help," she said, scribbling on the clipboard. "He needed someone with medical knowledge who could easily get into the party and then get you out while he, Jenna, and Miranda kept Maxfield and the other guests from coming near the lab."

"Come now," said Enzo, "that's awfully impersonal. Why would a Fell, who has had at least two family ties to the Augustine Society to date, want to steal away their lab rat?"

Meredith frowned. "Unlike my family, I believe that humans and vampires can benefit from each other rather than be enemies, and people like the Augustines will make that impossible if they aren't stopped. What they were doing to you would still be wrong even if you were as evil as I was raised to believe. Leaving aside the outright torture, clinical trials and medical research should only be done with the informed consent of the subject, and the goal should be to benefit patients."

Enzo let out a chuckle. "Grayson used to say things like that whenever none of his little colleagues was around. And he practiced what he preached, at least with me."

"How did he do that?"

"Did you know that when you die of consumption and come back as a vampire, you get to keep all the lovely scar tissue that pretty much turned your lungs into a pair of pointless leathery sacks when you were alive?"

"Pulmonary fibrosis," she said, nodding. "That _stays_?"

"It's not really the sort of thing you notice at first, because vampires can cope with just about any degree of physical discomfort, but I certainly wasn't operating at one hundred percent."

"That's a pretty rare cause of death for a vampire, isn't it? I never thought it could be a disease that would put you in transition. Didn't the vampire blood heal you?"

"Oh, it killed all the germs and healed any fresh damage they'd caused, but it couldn't do a blasted thing about that scar tissue, and scar tissue isn't terribly good at absorbing oxygen. I suffocated from the inside out, and then I woke up in transition. Breathing wasn't _quite_ as painful as before, but I still couldn't do it very well. I suppose I eventually got used to it, and then I had bigger sources of discomfort to put it in perspective."

"Grayson operated on you, didn't he?"

"That he did," said Enzo. "It was fairly gruesome, by all accounts. He essentially had to remove my lungs piece by piece over a series of surgeries that stretched out over several weeks. He couldn't even knock me out with vervain because of the scrutiny he was under from the rest of the society. The new lung tissue that grew in to replace what Grayson removed didn't have the scarring. Once it was finally over, I was shocked at the difference. It was like I'd never taken a proper deep breath in my life until then." He closed his eyes and smiled reminiscently, inhaling deeply through his nose, expanding his chest to its fullest capacity, then letting the breath out through his mouth in a pleased sigh. "It's bloody marvelous."

Meredith smiled. "I'm glad it worked. But I'm gonna need you to be a little less chatty for the next few minutes so I can check you out."

Enzo smirked. "Think I'm hot, do you?"

Meredith blushed, scowled, and swatted him on the shoulder with her clipboard. "You know what I meant," she snapped.

"Yes, doctor," he said, his smirk widening as he tugged off his shirt. With all the food and blood he'd consumed since his rescue, he was nearly back to the shape he was in during World War II. He'd hardly recognized the man staring back at him in the mirror before he came here from the barber's. He looked _good_ , and he knew it. He was rewarded for his efforts by the jump in the sound of her heartbeat and the catch in her breathing.

She held up the end of her stethoscope. "Mind if I, uh..."

He caught her hand and brought it forward so the stethoscope was over his heart, his eyes locked on hers. "Not at all."

"You're not trying to do that compulsion thing on me, are you?" she said, her voice just a tiny bit shaky.

"Why on earth would you think I was doing that?"

"Never mind," she said, busying herself with the stethoscope in an unsuccessful attempt to cover further blushing. Enzo was reminded of Maggie. He let go of her hand so she could move the stethoscope around to different places on his rib cage.

"Grayson did a good job," she said eventually. "Not a hint of wheezing anywhere. And the places Maxfield installed those capsules have healed. You don't even have scars." She came back around to stand in front of him again. The blush was gone, and her brow was furrowed. "Do you think you ever would have tried to get far enough away to set off the stake Maxfield implanted in you?"

Enzo slumped forward to prop his elbows on his knees. "I don't know. Grayson could tell you about me asking him to finish me off when he first joined up with the Augustines. That was a particularly rough patch for me; his predecessor was one of the worst. I was basically in hell already, and I couldn't imagine the real thing being much worse. I wanted it over. But having a friend again helped. Once Grayson left and Maxfield took over, things were as bad as they'd ever been. Maxfield has more imagination than the rest put together. Sometimes the thought of killing him in the most gruesome ways imaginable was all that kept me going. And I won't lie; sometimes I thought of hunting down Grayson and Damon too."

Meredith reached for his hand. He turned away from her. "I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity," she said. "I've known you were stronger than what was done to you since I first looked into your eyes. I'm just sorry you had to go through it." She took a step back, arms folded against her chest over the clipboard. "Well, you were right. I'm giving you a clean bill of health."

"Have dinner with me," said Enzo. "I'd like to properly thank you for rescuing me."

Meredith's eyes widened and she got a bit of a grin on her face. "I, uh, I go back on call in a few hours."

"When's the first evening you're free?"

"If no one else needs me to cover their shift, Thursday."

"Then it's a date," said Enzo, grinning and pulling his shirt back on. "Wait, people still say that, right?"

She gave a slight giggle. "Yeah. It's a date."

X

Damon was coming to terms with the fact that he had very little experience coping with things actually going well. They'd successfully rescued Enzo and got the meat back on his bones, Stefan was being bizarrely pleasant, Anna hadn't shown any signs of treachery, and the Gilberts and Bennetts were being consistently stellar allies. Yeah, they still had Richard Lockwood to deal with, but Damon actually felt pretty confident that the plan Tyler (of all people) had come up with was going to work.

But there were still hours to go before Tyler's plan could be carried out, and in the meantime, things going well meant there wasn't a lot to take Damon's mind off the one thing that _wasn't_ going well. Elena.

 _"So you think she's better off without you, but you don't want to her to hate you? That's a bit of a contradiction, isn't it? Seems to me that her hating you would be the easiest way to keep her away. At least then she'd still be herself."_

Enzo was right. He'd compelled Elena in a moment of panic and anger, then tried to justify it afterward as being for the best. In reality, it was just cowardice.

 _"Then what the hell have you been doing all summer? Was this your plan? You'd spend a few months tucking her away into your memories of past decades and then leave her without any memories of you?"_

Stefan had been right too. Damon wouldn't give up his own memories of Elena for the world, and yet he'd stolen them from her. He deserved to be hated by her for that. He got to his feet. Stefan looked up from the piano and Enzo lowered one of the books Grayson had given him.

"Where are you going?" said Enzo.

"Your symptoms aren't back again, are they?" said Stefan.

"There's something I've gotta take care of," said Damon. "Shouldn't take long." He walked out of the house before they could question him further. He didn't take the Camaro. As much as he loved driving it, he could get there faster on foot, and the faster he went, the less time he'd have to change his mind.

He reached the Gilberts' house in under a minute. He tried to go in through Elena's window like he'd done numerous times, but it was shut and apparently locked, the curtains drawn. Not to be deterred, he tried the other one. Also locked. With a snarl of annoyance, he punched sharply through the pane of glass just beside the lock, unlatched it, pushed the window open, and darted inside. "Elena?" he said, but the room was empty. He listened hard. He could hear Jenna and Miranda talking downstairs and Jeremy listening to music in his room, but there wasn't anyone else in the house.

His eyes fell on Elena's desk. Her journal lay open on its surface. Curious, he moved over to it. She must've just started this page, because there were only a few lines filled in. _"—just have to suck it up and face him. If the spell isn't going to give me those memories back, then I have to go find him and make him give them back himself_."

X

Elena reached the boarding house in record time, having driven at nearly double the speed limit to get there. It had been stupid and reckless, but she knew she was in danger of chickening out if she went any slower. That conversation with her family yesterday had filled in all the blanks about her life, but there was only one person who could fill in the last one.

When she got to the front door, she didn't just knock on it, she _hammered_. It opened a second later. "Elena?" it was Stefan, who looked surprised.

"Where's Damon?" she said.

"He left just a minute ago."

"But his car's here!" she said, pointing insistently. He _had_ to be here. "The powder blue '69 Chevy Camaro? That's his car, right?"

"Elena, as in Grayson's daughter Damon completely mucked everything up with?" said a different voice from farther inside. A voice with a British accent. It wasn't familiar, and yet somehow it was. Stefan turned, giving Elena a clear view of the man standing at the other end of the foyer.

"Enzo?" The name sprang to Elena's lips without conscious thought.

 _"I'm sorry, Enzo."_

 _"Damon, please."_

Pain lanced through Elena's head. Her vision went white, followed by a flood of sound and images far more intense than last time, and her legs buckled out from under her.

* * *

*evil cackle* It wasn't necessarily the plan for Elena to get her memories back by the end of this one, but I did feel that the memory loss plotline had run its course. Stefan is driving me nuts. I keep trying to put him in situations where he'll descend into bloodlust-y madness, but he keeps not doing that. Yeah, it turns out that slapping some introspection into him for the first time in his life doesn't make his self control worse like I thought it might. Whatever. Regarding Enzo/Meredith: that was the plan before Enzo/Bonnie ever happened in canon, and the characters didn't want to back out. *shrug* I like the idea of Enzo/Meredith anyway, because it seems like an interesting parallel to Alaric/Jenna. Next time, we'll finally find out what Tyler's plan was. Just got a hint of it this time. I think Enzo sobbing in the shower as the reality of his freedom finally sinks in is one of my favorite scenes, but weirdly it's one that it didn't occur to me was necessary until I'd written nearly everything else. Also, Elena's reaction to learning basically everything her parents know about the danger she's in. I decided not to actually show most of that conversation because it wouldn't be new information for you guys, unlike the stuff about Miranda's miscarriages. I know that a huge part of Elena's character in the show is feeling horribly guilty whenever anyone risks their life for her. However, this is an Elena who has never experienced loss. All she knows is that the one time her parents faced a powerful vampire, they won. Yes, her grandparents were killed, but she barely remembers them. She has a very childish trust in the invincibility of her parents, so the idea that they could die trying to keep her safe hasn't fully sunk in. I'm really enjoying writing Caroline now that she actually knows stuff. I think that was half of what turned her into such an awesome character (the other half was becoming a vampire and going through the related struggles). She's good for Stefan because she's blunt and pragmatic, whereas he's extremely emotion-driven and idealistic. She will call him out on his crap and stop him from getting in funks if he's confiding in her. Please review and let me know what you think!


	7. Identity Theft

I tried very hard to finish this in time to post on August 1, but I couldn't get Damon and Elena's scenes to work right _at all_. Ellen-Thalia was a huge help in sorting that out, and after that, I tossed the garbage scenes I'd already written and was finally able to crank natural-feeling scenes out like it was nothing. Then I ran into organization problems and the thing just kept getting longer, but it all worked out in the end, and now here you go!

Also, since posting the previous chapter, I've actually read the first two and a half books in Stephen King's _The Dark Tower_ series, which were enthusiastically recommended to me by multiple friends. I didn't like the first one but soldiered on in case it got better. It did, kind of, but the good parts weren't enough to outweigh the gruesome, graphic, and in many places entirely unnecessary bad parts. Also I just really can't stand his overall writing style. So much description of the stuff I don't want descriptions for, so little actual explanation of what's going on. No thanks. I got to the point where I couldn't understand at all how these books are so popular, so I went back and changed the books Grayson gave Enzo in "Generation X" and "Better to Have Loved and Lost" to the _Shannara_ books by Terry Brooks because I feel more comfortable about characters I love liking those.

* * *

Maybe if Stefan hadn't been looking over his shoulder at Enzo, he would have been fast enough to catch Elena before she hit the ground. Maybe Enzo would have caught her if Stefan hadn't been in his way. And Damon certainly would have done so if he wasn't still halfway between the boarding house and the Gilbert home, startling birds from their nests as he ran. As it was, nobody caught her when she suddenly crumpled in the doorway, and nobody was able to reach her in time to prevent her head from striking the bricks lining the outside of the frame.

Bricks notwithstanding, she was lucky to fall in such a way. She didn't break any bones, and the impact looked much worse than it was. There was no concussion, just a single abrasion to the forehead, right at the hairline, which didn't bleed nearly as dramatically as the average head wound is wont to do.

It did, however, bleed.

When Stefan turned to face Elena again, a second too late to catch her, his gaze snapped right to the thin gash. When he breathed in a surprised and concerned gasp, the smell of fresh human blood seemed to roll through his mind like a tidal wave, obliterating everything else in its path. His vision went crimson as his fangs grew. He lunged forward, lips curled back in a ravenous snarl.

But Enzo _had_ been trying to catch Elena, which meant that by the time the ripper moved, he was level with him. Catching sight of Stefan's vampiric features and the look of mindless hunger in his eyes, Enzo changed direction mid-stride, looped an arm around his neck, and yanked him backward with all his strength.

X

Damon couldn't believe this. If he'd just waited five more minutes or been ten minutes faster to come to his decision, Elena wouldn't have missed him or he wouldn't have missed her. It was ridiculous.

At almost the same moment that the boarding house came into view through the trees, Damon heard a yell and the sound of a body slamming into something solid, and he smelled blood. Specifically, Elena's blood. Cold dread swept through him. He took the last hundred yards at an even faster sprint.

He found Elena lying unconscious just outside the door and nearly collapsed with relief when he heard her steady heartbeat and he saw that the source of the bleeding was just a small cut on her forehead. This relief was short-lived, however. Through the open doorway, he could see Enzo struggling to keep Stefan from getting near her. He caught a glimpse of Stefan's face and felt pretty sure he'd seen rabid dogs that looked friendlier and more reasonable. This must be the first time Stefan had been so close to a bleeding human since changing his diet.

"Don't just sit there, get her out of here!" Enzo bellowed after Damon had hesitated for longer than a second. "I don't know how long can hold him back!"

Damon didn't need to be told twice. He gathered Elena up in his arms and fled with her back in the direction of her house.

X

Elena resurfaced from the onslaught of returning memories to a sensation like flying. Strong arms were under her knees and shoulder blades, and a familiar smell of leather, bourbon, and spice filled her nose. Damon. Why was she in Damon's arms? This wasn't one of her memories.

She opened her eyes to see a blur of greens and browns between locks of her hair being whipped violently by the wind. Her head still hurt, and the sight of the forest zipping past at such speeds made her stomach turn over. She shut her eyes tight and let out a groan. "Damon, put me down, I think I'm gonna throw up."

He stopped running. Thankfully, he did it gradually enough that it didn't increase her queasiness. After he came to a complete halt, he set her on her feet. She walked a few steps away over to the nearest tree and braced herself against it, the other hand on her stomach. She recognized where they were. She and Jeremy had played in this part of the forest all the time when they were little. It wasn't far to her neighborhood from here.

"You know who I am," said Damon.

Mercifully, the pain in her head was fading and her insides had stopped writhing like snakes, so she stood up straight again and faced him. His expression was unreadable. She remembered what it felt like to kiss him and for him to kiss her back with equal intensity, and she remembered the fury and betrayal on his face after he'd forcibly ejected her from his worst memories. The moments her diary hadn't been able to tell her about. "Yeah. I remember everything."

"How?"

"I went to the boarding house to demand that you give my memories back because it didn't seem like Bonnie's spell was going to do it, but—"

"Spell?" said Damon. His eyes flashed. "You let her do a spell to affect your mind?"

Elena stared at him. Her insides were writhing again, but this time it had nothing to do with motion sickness and everything to do with the fact that the man who had forced her to forget about him before she could tell him how much she loved him was standing within arm's reach, acting like _she_ was insane for attempting supernatural mind alteration. "Did you really just ask me that?"

"She's cast, what, two spells in her life, and you wanted her messing with your head? There were so many ways that could've gone wrong!"

Elena let out a peal of derisive laughter, which came out sounding slightly hysterical as some of that roiling emotion bubbled up with it. "Yeah, what on earth could have been worth taking that risk for?" she said. "It couldn't _possibly_ be that I was going crazy with nothing but vague lies where my memories of the last two months should've been, could it?"

"You could have waited!" he said, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I was on my way to give your memories back myself!"

"Oh, really? And how am I supposed to believe that?" she shot back. "How am I supposed to trust you at all anymore?"

His expression twisted into a bitter sneer. "I knew if you found out about all that stuff that you'd hate me for it."

She wasn't fully conscious of deciding to do it, but at this, her right arm snapped up and she slapped him across the face with all her strength. His head jerked to the side and a red welt plumed across his cheek in the shape of her handprint, only to heal and vanish again instantly. He stared at her with wide eyes.

"This isn't about what I saw in your head!" she said, incensed beyond belief, hand still stinging. "That wouldn't have changed a _thing_ for me!"

"Of course it would have!" he shouted. "You saw me shoot civilians because I got a little too jumpy on a war assignment. My brother trusted me to look out for him, and you saw me practically force him into a ripper spiral. Enzo was my best friend, and you saw me leave him to die in a fire! How does that not change anything? What, do you need more? In 1942, I killed twelve people without so much as blinking, just because a witch told me she could help me get rid of a clingy girlfriend. 1994, I slaughtered all of the guests at the boarding house, including my nephew's eight-months-pregnant girlfriend, just because Stefan got on my nerves. And that's only the highlight reel. I've had enough control over my bloodlust to _not_ kill the people I fed on almost the entire time I've been a vampire, but I did it anyway, because I _liked_ it."

Elena wanted to scream with frustration. How could anyone so completely miss the point? She wasn't stupid. She hadn't known specifics, but she'd known since the day she found out what he was that he had hardly lived like a saint. But he'd saved her life, made it clear that she held the reins in their friendship, and been totally real with her, and that was only what he'd done in the first week. And it was just so clear that he was starving for friendship and sincere human interaction. She couldn't believe that someone like that was incapable of changing for the better, and it was not in her nature to deny anyone that opportunity.

"If your past was a problem for me, then I would never have stayed friends with you after I found out you were a vampire," she said. Her voice came out low and it was in great danger of cracking. If it did, she knew it would be a slippery slope from there to a total emotional breakdown. "I let you inside my head. In two months, I've shared more of myself with you than with anyone else. You've brought out a side of me I didn't know was there. Someone more confident and determined. Someone who could break off a relationship that was going nowhere and risk her life to protect a person she cares about. I kept thinking that when you left with Katherine, I'd be able to bear it because at least I'd always have this one unforgettable summer to look back on." Anger was coming to her aid now, helping her to avoid the inevitable flood of tears. "But then you made me forget. Don't think you'll _ever_ catch me without vervain again." With that, she turned on her heel and stalked off in the direction of home.

Damon did not follow her, and she made it all the way to her bedroom before the dam finally broke.

X

When Damon returned to the boarding house, determined to find something other than Elena, her anger, and her heartbreak to focus on, he found Stefan crumpled on the rug in the parlor, his neck at a funny angle. Enzo stood over him, halfway through a blood bag.

"Was it Elena bleeding that set him off?"

"Yeah," said Enzo. He grimaced. "Although if I hadn't distracted him, he probably could've caught her before she scraped her head on those bricks, and we could've avoided the whole mess."

Damon bent down, picked Stefan up, and deposited him on the sofa. Then, in spite of himself, he asked, "Do you know how she got her memories back?"

"She got them back?" said Enzo. He ran a hand through his hair. "Dunno. She came here demanding to see you. I wanted to meet her—Grayson's daughter, and all—but she took one look at me, said my name, and then dropped like a stone. How is she?"

"Pissed at me."

"Good. You deserve it." He smirked.

Damon scowled, but what could he say? He _did_ deserve it. Hell, wiping her memories was easily on par with many of the other low points hiding behind his father's office door in his mind. It didn't mean he appreciated Enzo's commentary about it. Fortunately, there was a cracking noise then as Stefan's vertebrae righted themselves, and he sat bolt upright, thus sparing Damon the necessity of further introspection.

"Is anyone—what—is it still today?"

"Er, it's still the 13th of July, yes," said Enzo, looking nonplussed.

Stefan held a shaking hand to his face. "Thank God." His voice quivered, and suddenly Damon felt like he was twelve years old, with a five-year-old Stefan running into his room in tears after having a nightmare.

They were much older now and had both become their own nightmares, but some things never changed. He put a hand on Stefan's shoulder. "Hey, this isn't the Jazz Age anymore, Stef, and I'm not gonna let that happen again."

"What happened in the Jazz Age?" said Enzo.

"I don't remember most of it" said Stefan, eyes down. "But apparently I slaughtered half of Chicago and a few entire towns."

"Do you want to skip the top-off today?" said Damon. "The symptoms aren't back yet; I can go without."

"No," said Stefan. "Skipping meals would only make it harder, and if I'm not skipping meals, I might as well be useful."

"This about Grayson's werewolf bite cure?" said Enzo.

"Yeah," said Damon. "On days when my symptoms come back, we do the whole process. On days like today, we just do a transfusion to make up for me not being able to drink blood." He scowled. That was particularly annoying right now. He desperately wanted to take his frustrations out on _something_.

"Do you need Grayson's help for that?" said Enzo.

"Not anymore," said Stefan. "It's pretty basic. Why?"

"Because he wanted to introduce me to the rest of the family during his lunch hour, since there won't be much time for that this evening."

X

Stefan felt extremely jittery. He was glad he and Damon could go into the clinic through the back instead of passing the secretary. They silently descended the stairs, got a few bags of whole blood from the freezer and an empty transfusion bag, medical tubing, and needles from the storage closet, and set up in the lab as usual.

"I'm not sure I should go to the party tonight," said Stefan. He bit right into the first blood bag and started chugging it.

"What are you talking about?" said Damon. "Between you, me, and Enzo, you're the only one who looks too young to drink, which makes you integral to the plan."

Stefan finished the first bag and forced himself to pause long enough to answer before starting on the next. "You forgot about Anna."

Damon waved a hand dismissively. "She's only been on the team since Friday, and she was recruited by _Jeremy_. She's basically an intern."

"A bunch of teenagers will be getting drunk in the woods at night. Somebody's going to get hurt. They're going to _bleed_. And then there's going to be a lot more than just a single burnt corpse for the Sheriff to find."

Damon scowled. "If it wasn't for this damn poison, I'd take you out on a hunt right now. The blood bags aren't helping you learn control at all. But I told you I wasn't gonna let you go ripper again, and I meant it. Even if some idiot does get banged up and you lose it, you're going to have a hard time making it past the rest of us, not to mention Baby Witch."

By the end of the third blood bag, Stefan had decided it was a pretty convincing argument. And even though the party was a means to an end, it would do him good to relax a little and have fun. Plus, Caroline would be there. He was looking forward to talking to her in person, not just over the phone.

X

Elena had left her keys in her large black vehicle, so Enzo very cautiously drove it back to the Gilberts' house, following the directions Damon had written down for him. This wasn't anything like driving as he remembered it. Everything moved so smoothly, there was a load of computer nonsense going on instead of just a simple radio, and the automatic transmission was no fun at all. On the other hand, his driving skills being as rusty as they were, this was probably the easiest way to get back on the road for the first time, and he had to admit that air conditioning was lovely to have in a car.

He pulled up to the handsome home without incident. He pocketed Elena's keys, hoping for a chance to slip them to her unobtrusively, since it seemed unlikely she'd have told her parents about where she'd left her car and why.

When he reached the doorstep and lifted his hand to knock, he paused, looking down at himself. He was still borrowing Damon's clothes. He had literally nothing to his name. As a vampire, it was a simple enough circumstance to remedy, and he'd spent the vast majority of his existence (both alive and dead) with nothing, but he wasn't sure he'd ever been this aware of it. Still, he couldn't just stand here forever. He knocked.

Grayson opened the door, a wide smile on his face. "Come on in!" he said.

Enzo stepped over the threshold. Jenna was standing in the hallway behind Grayson, along with a more petite woman with dark hair and smiling eyes. "Miranda, I presume."

"Enzo," said Miranda warmly, extending a hand. "I'm glad I finally have the chance to thank you for convincing Grayson to ask me out."

Enzo grinned and shook her hand, the odd tension draining out of him. "The way he was going on about you, I'm sure he would have come to the point eventually, even without my help."

"You've already met Jenna," said Grayson, who was smiling even though his cheeks were a little red from embarrassment.

Jenna grinned. "Meredith told me about the date plans. Don't screw it up. I apparently owe her the broken nose of a jerk ex-boyfriend, and I don't like being in debt."

"I intend to screw nothing up," said Enzo.

"Kids, get down here!" Miranda yelled up the stairs. After a few seconds, the two teenagers appeared on the upstairs landing and headed down. Elena looked rather subdued, particularly at the sight of Enzo, but her brother seemed excited.

"Are you Enzo?" he said. "Dad told us all about you yesterday. Were you really locked up in that lab and experimented on since World War II?"

"Jeremy," said Miranda. "I'm sure he doesn't want to think about that."

"Oh, right," said the boy. "Sorry."

"Enzo, meet our kids," said Grayson in mild exasperation. "Jeremy and Elena."

"It's a pleasure," said Enzo.

All six of them migrated into the living room.

"So how are you doing?" said Miranda. "Grayson told me how bad it was when Meredith found you, but you look like you've made a full recovery."

"Stefan cooked up an Italian feast yesterday," said Enzo. "It finished up what Damon started with all those burgers."

"No side effects?"

"None so far."

"I want to hear about some of the stuff you guys did while Dad was in charge of the Whitmore lab," said Jeremy.

Enzo scratched his chin thoughtfully (he still wasn't used to it being smooth). "Shall we tell them about the time you wanted to test the effects of vampire blood on a sample of a malignant tumor?"

Grayson's eyes lit up, and he started off with the story of the ill-fated experiment. Enzo looked around at all of their faces while Grayson talked, interrupting to add a detail here and there. He couldn't remember anyone genuinely wanting his company like this. Damon and Grayson hadn't really had a choice before, when they were in the lab. But now that he was out, it seemed that they hadn't just rescued him to ease their consciences, nor that their friendship was conditional on being stuck with him. And Damon seemed keen for him to get on well with Stefan too, just as Grayson wanted him to feel welcome amongst his family. An entirely foreign warm sensation welled up in him. The only word he could think of to describe it was _belonging_.

X

Elena wanted to be as happy as the rest of her family to meet Enzo properly, but she couldn't manage it—nor could she seem to fake it. Until Enzo arrived, she'd been furiously detailing every single new memory she had of Damon in her diary, even though it had brought her to bitter tears on numerous occasions. She couldn't risk him deciding to mess with her mind again, so in addition to wearing her bracelet and drinking vervain tea every day, she was going to make sure she had everything on record.

After about fifteen minutes or so of her family cheerfully conversing with Enzo, she'd quietly left the living room and walked out to the porch, where she sat down on the swing in front of the brand new window that had been installed earlier that day.

She wasn't alone for long. The front door soon opened, and Enzo stepped out.

"Are you leaving already?" she asked. "I thought you were all gearing up for hours of swapping stories."

"I can get back to that anytime," he said. He sat down next to her on the swing. "For now, I wanted to see how you were, since I'm guessing you haven't told any of them about your little misadventure this morning." He held out his hand. Her car keys were dangling off his finger.

Elena took them, then drew her legs up onto the swing and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I got my memories back, which means I'm doing better than I was before, but it also sucks."

"Well, as I've told him to his face, Damon is an idiot."

Elena let out a reluctant giggle, which did nothing to alleviate her misery. "You already knew what he did?"

"Stefan mentioned it. Seemed to enjoy giving Damon a hard time over it. I did too, for that matter."

"Good."

"How are doing with all that?" he said slowly. "If you don't mind my asking."

Elena was still struggling to fully comprehend why what Damon had done was so horrible. She cast around for something to compare it to. "Okay, you know how it is when you share a big secret with someone, and you trust them to keep it so much that you don't even really think about it, and then you find out a few days later that they've treated it like a juicy piece of gossip?"

"Not precisely, but I can imagine that would be unpleasant."

"Damon taking my memories away was worse. We weren't even dating, but I've never had a more personal, intimate relationship with anyone. It was special, like a secret. If blabbing a secret to other people is bad, then _stealing_ that secret from the mind of the other person you shared it with is a thousand times worse." Only when this rant had finished pouring out of her did she realize she'd unleashed it on a near-stranger. She felt her cheeks burn. "Sorry. I shouldn't be dumping all of this on you."

"I disagree," said Enzo. She shot him a skeptical look, and he smiled. "You know, Grayson visited me a few times after he started his residency at the hospital here. All he could talk about was you. He showed me pictures. I half-expected you to still be the baby from those photos. How old are you now?"

"I'll be seventeen next month," she said, glad for the change of topic.

"The last time I saw Grayson back then, I really thought he'd be getting me out soon. Things were getting bad with Maxfield, and I couldn't help picturing how it might be on the outside. I thought it would be fun to try and get you to say 'Uncle Enzo' as your first words." The moment he said it, he seemed to regret it, because he quickly added, "Followed by a handful of the most heinous swear words, obviously."

Elena blinked, and she suddenly wondered how things would've been if her dad had gotten Enzo out all those years ago. Would he really have been that close to her family as she grew up? She smiled. She decided that she liked Enzo. "Oh, I don't know. They might not be my _first_ words, but 'Uncle Enzo' isn't necessarily off the table. I don't have to still be a baby to have an uncle." She decided not to mention that the bar set by her actual uncle was pretty low (she was refusing to think of him as her father). "A-and Mom's pregnant, so pretty soon there'll be someone you can teach to call you Uncle from the start."

"You think you'd all want me sticking around that long?" he asked with amused skepticism. But just as with his previous remark, there was vulnerability underneath.

"Why not?" said Elena. She peered curiously at him. "You don't seem mad at my dad for leaving you in that lab all these years. Or Damon, for that matter." She thought of that last memory she'd witnessed in Damon's mind. She'd never heard such desperation and anguish as in Enzo's voice when Damon turned and left him to the flames.

He shrugged. "They're not the only ones who've abandoned me, but they _are_ the only ones who came back."

There was a pause, and Elena's insides wrenched with sympathy for him. "What do you mean?"

"You don't want to hear a sob story from someone you just met. And it's ancient history anyway."

"I did just unload on you about Damon," she pointed out. "Have you ever talked about this with anyone?"

"Not really."

"Well maybe you should. Get it off your chest, you know." She gave him a little nudge with her shoulder.

He grimaced. "Alright, then. I grew up in the workhouse because my parents had debts they couldn't pay. I don't even remember their faces. I thought I had a second chance at family when I met the vampire who turned me, but then she vanished too, and I had to figure out being a vampire alone."

The sympathy Elena felt for him was physically painful now. That was enough hardship to last a lifetime—technically, she supposed, it had—and then to endure decades and decades of torture and imprisonment on top of that? "What are you going to do now that you're free and have people who care about you?"

A bit of a smile crept back onto his face. "I haven't decided yet. I'd like to travel. Might give university another go. For now, though, helping you lot take down that werewolf seems like an amusing way to pass the time."

Elena smiled, and she was about to start teasing him about Meredith Fell when he suddenly went rigid. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Your dad just answered the phone," he said. "It's Maxfield."

Elena stiffened too. She only knew what her parents and aunt had mentioned about Dr. Wesley Maxfield the day before. It hadn't been much, but it had been enough. "What are they saying?"

"Maxfield just went down to the lab for the first time since Friday, and he's in a panic because I'm not there and all the blood samples are gone. He hasn't told anyone else yet because he wants Grayson to help him find or replace me before anyone else finds out." Enzo paused, and then his expression went hard. "Grayson just told him to come meet him at the clinic."

"Hey," said Elena, gently touching his shoulder. He flinched and veins rippled beneath his eyes. Elena flinched too, but she forced herself to calm down and keep her hand where it was. "It's okay, Enzo. You're never going back there. Dad won't let that happen."

"You're sure of that?" said Enzo in a low voice.

"I am. And wasn't this part of the big plan anyway? Dad said you were putting an end to the Augustine Society for good."

At that, he relaxed. The front door opened then, and Elena's dad stepped out. "Enzo, Maxfield's on his way to my clinic. We've got him. Let Damon know."

"What about Tyler's party?" said Elena.

"There's enough time left before it starts for them to help me deal with Maxfield."

"Damon's already at the clinic. He and Stefan are doing a top-off."

Their mentions of Damon were putting a bitter taste in Elena's mouth. It wasn't fair that he was this involved in the lives of everyone else around her. If he'd stuck to single-mindedly pursuing his original purpose for coming to town, maybe she wouldn't have to worry about facing him when she wasn't ready for it or hearing his name so often.

Still, no matter how much it hurt, she would never regret having her memories back.

X

Wesley Maxfield, M.D., Ph.D., was having an extremely stressful day. He'd been on the brink of landing an enormous research grant from Tobias Fell and the other head Augustines for his work with 12144. The addition of the ideas Grayson Gilbert had given him had made it almost a guaranteed success. But now everything was in jeopardy because his subject had vanished without a trace, taking with him every last sample of his blood and no small amount of dangerous knowledge about the Society.

Sometime between 5:00 on Friday when Wes had locked up the lab and 8:00 this morning, the vampire had escaped. Wes hadn't panicked when he first found the cell empty. No, the panic had only set in after he'd traversed the entire boundary of the electronic leash and discovered neither a vervain-crippled vampire nor a veiny corpse.

He didn't for a second entertain the idea of alerting his colleagues. No, things could go very badly for him if he did that. The very best case scenario was losing the grant. He was hoping to reverse the situation without them being any the wiser. But he was not equipped to track a missing vampire. Because Grayson Gilbert wasn't an active member of the Society and had experience not just experimenting on vampires but hunting them, he was the obvious person to go to for help. As an added bonus, the level of clout he held within the Society meant that he would serve as powerful insurance in the event of failure. The other members would be far more understanding if the two of them working together couldn't retrieve the subject than if it was his mistake alone.

Besides, as the man who had previously run the lab, Grayson was 12144's most likely target for revenge, apart from himself, and he had a family. The rest of the Society probably had a little more time before he went after them, if revenge was indeed his goal. It had certainly been the goal of 21051.

Wes forced himself not to drive like a maniac to get to the little clinic on Main Street in Mystic Falls. He arrived at the Grayson Gilbert Family Practice Clinic around three in the afternoon. There were no patients in the waiting area and the reception desk was vacant.

Grayson emerged from the first door down the hall behind the desk. "You made good time," he said. Wes merely nodded. Grayson motioned deeper into the hallway. "Come on. We should go down to the lab. I sent Laura home and rescheduled the rest of my appointments for the afternoon, but someone could still wander in."

"Good thinking," said Wes. He followed Grayson to the end of the hall, down a flight of wooden stairs, past a copier and ceiling-high shelving units of patient files, and through a plain door.

He'd barely stepped through this door before it shut behind him with a snap.

X

When Maxfield jumped and turned to face the door, Enzo was blocking his way. "Nice to see you again, Doctor," he said. Damon watched from beside the exam chair, smirking.

Only after Enzo spoke did Maxfield seem to realize who he was, and he took a hasty step backward, farther into the lab. "You already got to Grayson?" he gasped.

"It's really the other way around, actually," said Enzo.

"What are you talking about?"

"Enzo didn't get to Grayson," said Damon. "Grayson and I got to Enzo."

Maxfield turned his head in Damon's direction, and after a second, his eyes widened and he looked even more horrified. "I've seen photos of you in the files. You're 21051."

Damon's lip curled. "It's not a good idea to call me that if you want to keep your tongue," he growled.

"Grayson, what's going on?" said Maxfield, his eyes darting from one escaped Augustine vampire to the other. Fear was coming off of him like an intoxicating cloud.

"It's pretty simple," said Grayson coldly. "I promised Enzo before you took over the lab for me that I would find a way to free him. To make up for the very long wait I put him through, I'm helping him take down the entire Society. Damon has a similar interest in seeing it destroyed. I think you're aware of his previous efforts to do so. By contacting me first about hunting Enzo down, you've just volunteered yourself to become our inside man. We thought it'd be Tobias, since he's the only other member in town."

"You're compelling him?" said Maxfield, eyes on Damon, who snorted.

"Dude's on vervain 24/7. But even if he was dumb enough to give me the opening, I wouldn't have needed to compel him. He hates the Augustines almost as much as we do."

This claim was shocking enough for Maxfield that he actually turned his back on Damon and Enzo to stare at Grayson, who returned his look of shocked betrayal with one of contempt. Damon kinda wished he had some popcorn. This was great. "You've been on _their_ side all this time? But what about the work you did? What about this lab? The subject you had in here for years? I read all of your reports! I've written _papers_ on them! You were one of us!"

"Considering the way you treat dissenters, I had little choice but to be one of you once Tobias inducted me," said Grayson, his expression unchanging. "I found a way to do work that would satisfy the Society's leadership without violating my own code. I regret every day that I broke that code with my own subject. You and the rest of the Society are a disgrace to the science of medicine. Nazi scientists probably had better ethics than you. Alone, the most I could do was quietly become less involved while keeping promising new minds like Meredith Fell's out of your clutches. Now, I've got help, so I can finally get proactive."

"So what, you're going to let them slaughter us like he's been slaughtering the Whitmore family?" Maxfield demanded, pointing at Damon.

"Of course not," said Grayson. "Even though that would still be more ethical than what you've been doing. No, they're simply going to make all of you forget the Augustine Society ever existed. And maybe we can get your lab filled in with cement."

Damon saw Maxfield's right arm move before Enzo or Grayson noticed. Something sharp and wooden was dropping from his sleeve. Before he could do anything else, Damon vamp-sped over to him and ripped the stake away, then hoisted him off his feet and slammed him into the exam chair. Enzo took over from there, fastening the straps across his chest, wrists, legs, and ankles faster than blinking. Maxfield struggled, but those restraints had once been used to hold a vampire. He wasn't going anywhere.

Damon met Enzo's eyes over the exam chair, looking to see how he felt about Grayson's plan now. He'd agreed to it yesterday, but his tormentor of the last eighteen years hadn't been at his mercy then. As for Damon, everything that had happened lately had left him extremely restless but with no outlet. If he got any sign from Enzo that revenge was more important than prudence, he was going to jump on it.

"We're all on vervain," said Maxfield. He'd stopped struggling, but his voice quavered and his face was white as a sheet.

"Yes, currently," said Grayson, moving a few steps to stand at the foot of the exam chair. "But soon you'll all be on blue hyssop, which won't do a thing to prevent compulsion. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but _you_ are the closest thing the Society has to a botanist, aren't you?"

Damon could tell from the growing beads of sweat on Maxfield's forehead that Grayson wasn't wrong, which meant none of them would notice the difference between true vervain and the imposter plant.

"So," said Enzo. "How do we go about getting the vervain out of his system, then? Stab him?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," said Damon.

"Was that a joke?" said Grayson.

Damon and Enzo looked around at him, frowning, while Maxfield continued to sweat.

After the silence stretched out for a few seconds, Grayson broke it. "Well, I mean, as long as we're resorting to bloodletting, why don't I just go pick up a bucket of leeches to throw on him?"

"Your sarcasm could use some work, Grayson," said Damon.

Grayson's eye actually twitched, and he appeared to be getting a migraine. "Oh, for the love of God. Am I the only one here who understands basic biology? The potent compounds in the vervain are diffused evenly through his blood. You can't just cut him and have all of them come out in whatever he bleeds before it clots. If you want to get water-soluble compounds out of someone's bloodstream faster than it takes them to break down naturally, you don't drain them out. You _flush_ them out. We'll just make him drink large amounts of water and his kidneys will do the rest. The vervain will come out in his urine much faster than it would otherwise."

Despite the fact that he was currently benefitting greatly from Grayson's medical knowledge and ingenuity, Damon found this answer to be extremely disappointing. So there wasn't going to be any violence at all? They were simply going to take Dr. Frankenstein down with _potty breaks_? Enzo clearly shared his view of the matter. He shot Damon a glance. Damon narrowed his eyes in question, and Enzo flicked his gaze very deliberately to Grayson's right hand. Damon gave the slightest of nods, and they both subtly backed off the exam chair a few feet and began to move clockwise around it. Grayson began doing the same.

"You think I'm going to drink anything you give me when I know what you're trying to do?" said Maxfield while all this went on.

"Would you prefer an IV and a catheter?" said Grayson, raising an eyebrow.

Maxfield's eyes widened, and Damon snickered. It was pretty pathetic that the idea of a catheter was enough to freak out a seasoned master of medical torture.

"Won't his little friends notice if he's gone long enough to piss the vervain out?" said Enzo.

"Yeah," said Damon. "Couldn't we just do—what have you been calling it? Comprehensive blood replacement therapy?"

"We could, but that would use a lot of blood bags, and it's not a good idea to run down the supply when we have other options."

"I know another option," said Enzo. "One where we can drain nearly all of his blood and replace it without depleting our stores."

They had revolved around Maxfield to the point that Grayson was now the one standing closest to the door to the lab. He frowned at Enzo. "What are you talking about?"

"Dreaming of killing this man in the most gruesome ways I could imagine was just about all that kept me sane in that cell once I gave up on you coming back for me. You say killing him or any of the others would cause problems, but that's only true if he _stays dead_. I mean to have it both ways. Give me your ring, Grayson."

"What?!" said Grayson, looking appalled. "I'm not letting you use the ring for that!"

That was all Damon needed. He rushed forward, flung the door open, snatched the ring off Grayson's hand (thankfully it was loose enough that it didn't catch on his knuckle, or else that move likely would've stripped the skin off the finger), and shoved him out into the main basement room. Grayson regained his balance and stared at Damon in shock and anger. "Sorry, Doc," said Damon. "This one's Enzo's call."

"No!" Grayson yelled, running forward. Damon slammed the door shut again and locked it. It had quite a few locks on it, and most could only be opened from the inside. He turned to Enzo and flicked the ring towards him as Grayson's fists began hammering on the door. He felt the faintest twinge of guilt, but he ignored it. He hadn't killed anyone in _months_ , and here was someone who actually deserved it.

"Now," said Enzo, sliding the ring onto Maxfield's finger. If the man had looked terrified before, it was nothing to how he looked now that they'd locked Grayson out. "How to repay you for everything you've done to me? I suppose we can't get any blood on your clothes; that would be noticeable." He raised one hand and held it over Maxfield's right forearm. "Let's start by testing your bone density, shall we?" His fingers drove down, there was a _snap_ of bone, Maxfield screamed, and the pounding on the door grew louder.

X

Stefan didn't need the directions Jeremy Gilbert had passed along from Tyler to drive to the old Lockwood estate, as he was more familiar with the ruins in the forest than he was with the modern parts of town. For lack of other options, he took Damon's car, the trunk and back seat of which were loaded with around three hundred bottles of beer. He'd cleaned out a grocery store the next town over and compelled his way out of showing an ID when making the purchase. Supplying the alcohol for a party of teenagers didn't even register on the scale of evil things Stefan had done, but it was easily the most unethical.

He arrived at the site of the old mansion to find that Tyler, Jeremy, and Anna were already there, along with a blond boy Stefan thought was probably Matt Donovan, brother of the girl Mayor Lockwood had killed, though he'd only seen him in passing at the Fourth of July barbecue. The three boys were working on setting up a generator in the bed of an old pickup truck so that the party would have lights and music. Stefan walked over to Anna. Her gaze was unfocused, and she was standing not far from the hidden cellar. "What are you doing?" he said.

"Foxtrot is digging up Coach Tanner," said Anna. "Just enough that he'll be extremely noticeable."

"Foxtrot?"

"Jeremy named her. She's my fox spy."

"Oh," said Stefan. He'd spent the vast majority of his time as a vampire drinking animal blood, which, aside from making his human compulsion unreliable, made him far too weak to even attempt animal compulsion. The times he _hadn't_ been on animal blood, he'd been too single-minded about satisfying his hunger to try learning tricks like that. Maybe if things worked out and he managed to get himself under control, he'd finally give it a shot.

"We could use some help with the sound system over here!" Tyler called, and Stefan walked over to join the boys.

"So are all the party guests going to be trespassing by coming out here?" Jeremy was asking Tyler when Stefan drew level with them.

"I don't think so," said Tyler, frowning. "I mean, I'm part of the family that owns the property, and I'm the one who invited everyone."

"Hey, I'm Matt," said Matt Donovan, who'd taken a step away from the truck and extended a hand.

Stefan shook it. "Stefan Salvatore," he said. "I heard about your sister. I'm sorry."

Matt grimaced. "Yeah. So, uh, are you starting at the high school this fall?"

"Yeah, I'll be a junior."

"Oh, cool, me and Tyler too. Play football?"

"I'm not bad," Stefan hedged. He'd loved the game ever since Damon taught him how to play it, but rarely was it so hard to lie to himself about being a regular high school kid than when he was deliberately playing at about a tenth of his ability so as not to injure the other players. It took a lot of the fun out of it.

"You should stop by practice tomorrow morning," said Matt. He frowned. "If we're having it. There was a sign on the locker room door about practice being cancelled Friday, but it was still there this morning. I tried calling Coach Tanner but only got his voicemail."

"That's weird," said Stefan. He could feel Tyler's eyes on him, and deliberately avoided meeting them, not wanting to give Matt a reason to be suspicious. "So, what stuff needs to go where?"

X

Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline had spent a good portion of the afternoon at the latter's house, discussing the Salvatore brothers while they got ready for Tyler's party. There was a strange combination of moods between them. Bonnie was very pleased with herself for how well the memory spell had worked in the end, even though she was sorry it had cost such a high emotional price for Elena. Elena was still angry and deeply hurt by Damon's compulsion. And Caroline was giddy with excitement about seeing Stefan again.

Caroline had managed to squash her exuberance while Elena told them about what she now remembered—leaving out any details of what she'd seen in Damon's own memories. Just because he could treat her experiences with such disrespect didn't mean she was going to retaliate in kind. After Elena had gotten to the part about the kiss, Caroline had silently retrieved two twenties and a ten from her purse and refused all of Elena's protests against accepting them. She'd won their bet fair and square.

Bonnie had volunteered to be Elena's wingwoman at the party, since Caroline would be preoccupied with Stefan. Bonnie wasn't going to let Damon anywhere near Elena if she didn't want him around, and she was perfectly prepared to hex the crap out of him if he objected.

Elena and Bonnie couldn't talk to Caroline about the true purpose of the party, but Caroline didn't seem to notice; she was far too busy fantasizing about Stefan.

X

When the door to the lab finally opened again, Grayson walked through it without speaking. He took in the sight of Maxfield sprawled lifelessly on the exam chair. His clothes were clean, but many of his bones were clearly broken, and blood was still dripping from gashes in his wrists into buckets on the floor that appeared to contain around three liters between them.

Grayson's mouth twisted. He looked at Damon and Enzo, who stared mutinously back at him. "If this," he said in a deceptively calm voice, "is how the two of you will be handling the rest of the operation to dismantle the Augustine Society after everything we discussed, then you will not have my support. I will not allow you to continue using my ring in this way, and I will not help you when your brashness inevitably brings the entire Society down on your heads."

Damon was the first one to look away. Grayson was surprised to see that he even looked a little ashamed. "It won't happen again," he said.

"Is that so?" said Enzo heatedly.

Damon looked at Enzo. "Are any of the others who experimented on you still alive?"

"No."

"You're the one who said taking what they cared about out of their minds was as good as killing them. Do you still think that or not?"

"Fine," said Enzo. "But that?" He pointed at Maxfield's broken body and glared fiercely at Grayson. "I won't apologize for. That was barely a drop in the ocean of what he deserved." He stalked past Grayson and out of the lab.

Grayson stared at Damon, who still wouldn't meet his eyes. "You don't know what it's like to be in Enzo's position," said the vampire. "You know what they do, but you don't know what it feels like to have that done to you. Over and over. Just because we heal fast doesn't make it hurt less. You can make all the careful plans you want, but you can't expect him to be okay with not causing them pain. Especially considering what we've both done in revenge."

"It has to stop somewhere," said Grayson. "Did you enjoy that as much as you thought you would?"

Damon didn't answer. He merely clenched his jaw. In the exam chair, Wes Maxfield let out a whimpering groan and numerous loud _cracks_ sounded as his life was reset and all of his broken bones snapped back into place. Damon walked over to stand where he could see Maxfield's eyes. The man tensed violently against the restraints as soon as he realized who he was looking at, but the longer Damon stared him down, the more his expression slackened. "Do you have any regrets?" Damon asked. "We might be nicer to you if you're sorry for what you did to Enzo."

"My only regret is that I ever trusted Grayson Gilbert," said Maxfield in a dull voice. "If I get the chance, I'll put him in a cell next to you and 12144."

"Is that enough of a test that the vervain is gone?" said Grayson, sliding his ring back off Maxfield's finger and onto his own again.

"It felt like it worked," said Damon. "But how about…" His eyes bored into Maxfield's again. "Fall asleep."

Maxfield's eyes immediately dropped closed and he sagged in the restraints as all of his muscles relaxed. Damon cocked an ear towards him. "Yep. Can't fake that. His heart rate spiked when he looked at me, but now it's way down. And now I can really be sure." His own eyes fell shut and his brow furrowed. He stood that way, unmoving, for about thirty seconds before Maxfield's sleep became restless. His breathing sped up and his eyelids moved rapidly. He finally woke with a scream, and Damon smirked.

"What was that?" said Grayson.

"Gave him a nightmare. Can't do that to someone on vervain."

"Alright, then. Compel him like we planned. I'll get the blue hyssop for him to take back with him."

"I'm still not back to a hundred percent," said Damon. "We can't risk it slipping. Enzo should do it."

Grayson sighed. "Go find him."

X

Tyler surveyed his party with satisfaction. The goal had been to throw a good enough party that nobody would have a reason to think it had been staged, and for how recently he'd planned it and how simple it was, it would definitely achieve that goal. By seven o'clock, at least a hundred people from Mystic Falls High were there, mostly Tyler's class, but also a good number of soon-to-be seniors and even a handful of new graduates. Jeremy Gilbert was probably the only incoming freshman in attendance (not counting Anna, since she was way older than she looked), but that was fine. It wasn't a party for kids, and Jeremy had been the one to put together the playlist, which was surprisingly good.

The combination of swimming and alcohol probably wasn't the best idea, but Matt and Bonnie were both here and willing to keep an eye on things, though Bonnie had joked that he'd owe her ten bucks an hour for it. On the whole, it was a party he would've been proud of even if that was all it had been.

X

Damon's mood had not remotely improved by the time he and Enzo reached the old Lockwood estate, now packed with teenagers who were either swimming, dancing to very loud music, drinking, or some combination of the three. What was wrong with him? What they'd done to Maxfield hadn't even been permanent and he had absolutely deserved it, but no matter how often he told himself that, Damon couldn't dislodge the sick feeling he'd had ever since he locked Grayson out of the lab. The violence he'd hoped would be cathartic for him had in fact relieved none of the pressure that had been building up since at least Thursday night. Now, every time he closed his eyes, he could see not one, but two Gilberts looking at him with betrayal and anger. Why did that matter to him so much more than anything else? Why did they have to expect so much of him? They should know better!

He didn't think this party was going to help either. He couldn't do what he normally did at parties, which was snatch, eat, and erase, he couldn't get drunk because all Stefan had brought was beer, and he couldn't hang out with Elena because that bridge was still on fire. Whether it collapsed or not remained to be seen. No, all Damon could do at this party was babysit Stefan and make sure Tyler Lockwood's plan worked. He might have to run back to the boarding house for bourbon before long.

As much as he told himself he wasn't here for Elena, the moment he arrived in the clearing where most of the teenagers were gathered, he instinctively scanned the crowd until he found her. She was in the dancing group, she was wearing a two-piece swimsuit with a towel wrapped around her waist, and she was _not_ only dancing with other girls. Of the boys in the group, Matt Donovan was the one dancing closest to her, wearing an expression not at all consistent with no longer being her boyfriend.

Yep. Damon officially _hated_ this party.

X

"How are you even supposed to dance to music like this?" said Stefan loudly.

"I'll show you!" said Caroline. It was amazing how he could be so gorgeous and yet so bad at things gorgeous people did, like partying. She had danced with him at the Fourth of July barbecue, and she _would_ dance with him at this party too, if he would just stop being stubborn about it. She downed the last of her beer and tossed the cup into the enormous trash bag someone had tied to a tree, then grabbed his hand, but he still looked reluctant. "Come on, just one song," she wheedled. "Then we can swim or something."

"Fine, _one_ song," said Stefan. Caroline beamed and kissed him on the cheek, then dragged him away from the coolers towards the dancing group.

X

"So how many of these could you drink before you actually got drunk?" said Jeremy, passing Anna a beer bottle and twisting the cap off of his own and wrinkling his nose. This was not the first time he'd had beer. He still didn't understand what people liked about it, but apparently it was something you got used to eventually. He figured he'd give it one or two more tries before he gave it up in favor of drinks that didn't taste like bitter, carbonated bread.

"Oh, there's not enough alcohol in these to get me drunk, even if I chugged them one after the other," said Anna, taking a long swig. "Vampire metabolism is too fast for anything but the really hard stuff, and even then it takes effort."

Jeremy cast a furtive glance around. Nobody was paying any attention to them. "Is everything ready for...you know."

Anna snorted and grinned. "You're pretty new to this whole subterfuge thing, aren't you?"

"Hey, how was I supposed to practice before now?" Jeremy protested. "I've never been in a situation where I had to work with allies to take down an actual murderer, let alone a werewolf."

"It's kinda fun, huh?"

Jeremy returned the grin. "It's like being in one of the books I've read." Then the grin dropped as he thought of Vicki. "Including the bad parts."

Anna gave him a sympathetic look. "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand, which set off a swooping sensation in his stomach.

"Come on where?" he said, letting her lead him along.

"It's getting dark enough for Agent Archi. Wanna see how owls see at night?"

"Hell yeah!" said Jeremy, his grin coming back at once. He hadn't ingested vervain since Friday. Instead, he'd been wearing a braided black cord he'd dipped in vervain extract as a bracelet, just in case Anna wanted to let him in on some more animal reconnaissance.

X

Enzo had been cross with Damon for capitulating to Grayson's bloodless idea of taking down the Augustines, but in the hours that had passed since (during which they'd sent Maxfield back to Whitmore thoroughly compelled and with a bunch of blue hyssop to begin distributing), he'd had time to think it over. He'd come to the conclusion that the sense of belonging he'd gained from Damon and from Grayson and his family mattered more to him than being able to personally repay the wrongs that had been done to him by the Augustines, and if he had to choose one or the other, he'd take the former. So even though he would always relish the memory of Maxfield's bones snapping under his fingers, he would help in the effort to take down the werewolf mayor of Mystic Falls if it got Grayson to overlook his brief mutiny.

Which was why he was now in the woods, surrounded by inebriated teenagers, his eardrums throbbing with the most horrible, incoherent _noise_ he'd ever heard. That this was a necessary step towards turning the town's anti-vampire council against the Mayor, but he wasn't allowed to torture any more Augustines, was grossly unfair.

Still, his own task was a simple one. "How about those two?" he said, indicating a boy and girl among the dancing teens who had, in the thirty seconds he'd been watching, shot each other multiple interested glances. Damon didn't respond, and when Enzo turned to see why, he found that Damon was once again glowering in the direction of the extremely harmless and wholesome-looking blond boy who was dancing (if you could call any of this nonsensical flailing about "dancing") in the general vicinity of Elena Gilbert.

Enzo rolled his eyes. If _he_ could ask Meredith Fell to dinner two days after meeting her as a walking skeleton who'd initially attempted to strangle her, then what the hell was Damon's excuse for being such a monumental berk about a girl who was obviously mad for him? "Oi, Damon," he said, rapping his shoulder with his knuckles.

Damon finally stopped glaring at the utterly unthreatening boy and looked where Enzo was pointing. "Oh," he said. "Yeah, sure, they'll work."

Damon went for the willowy blonde, leaving the broad-shouldered ginger to Enzo. "That girl is really into you, mate," said Enzo. The boy's face had gone slack the second Enzo met his eyes, and now he grinned rather stupidly. "You should show her the old cellar over there." He pointed to the cellar, which still had plywood over it but was no longer perfectly concealed by leaves and dirt. "You'll have plenty of privacy down there."

"Thanks!" said the boy.

X

"You're hoping that guy wants to make out with you," said Damon, staring into the girl's eyes. "But when he takes you down into the old cellar, you won't be so sure about it, because it's super dark and creepy in there. Make him check that it's okay before you let him so much as kiss you."

She nodded vaguely, and, his job done, Damon felt no interest in waiting to see how things played out. He glanced around the partiers long enough to establish that Stefan was still safely dancing with Blondie (even though he looked like an idiot doing it). Then, he found the first unaccompanied girl he saw, said a perfunctory "Let's dance," and pulled her over towards where Elena was dancing. She only seemed startled for a second, and then she seemed delighted, but he didn't care. Donovan wasn't currently dancing near Elena, but Damon knew he'd be back before long.

Sure enough, it only took a few seconds for the quarterback to reappear, holding two red Solo cups and heading straight for Elena. Damon would have liked to have snapped the boy's neck or drained his blood or done any number of horribly painful things to him, but he settled for maneuvering his hapless dance partner so that she collided with him, causing him to spill the contents of the cups he was holding all over her.

Donovan, horrified by what he seemed to think was his own mistake, began apologizing profusely and trying to help the girl, who was devastated over the state of her outfit, which was apparently new. Damon still didn't care. He glanced over at Elena, only to find her marching right up to him, a thunderous look on her face. She grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away from the clearing full of dancing high-schoolers. He knew he was in big trouble, but it didn't occur to him to pull out of her grip.

X

On the opposite side of the clearing, Stefan was feeling incredibly stupid dancing to this music. He'd avoided most forms of dancing since pretty much the disco era (though even before then, dancing had never been on his list of favorite activities), and until Caroline Forbes came along, Lexi had been the only one who could get him anywhere near a dance floor in decades. He remembered scoffing at Lexi's insistence that it was possible for something to be stupid and fun at the same time, but he now had to admit that she'd been right as, over the course of this dance, he started to actually have fun.

From there, he gradually forgot about looking stupid, because Caroline was managing to make the same moves he was doing look sexy as hell. He found himself hoping that her definition of "taking things slow" was very different from most people's. His thoughts clearly showed on his face, because Caroline danced even closer to him than before, wrapped her arms around his neck, and rocked up onto her tiptoes so she could speak right into his ear. "Wanna go somewhere a little more private?"

Twenty seconds later, they were in a secluded cluster of trees, kissing frantically.

X

Once again, Jeremy was pretty sure he was going to be squinting a lot when he went back to seeing through his own eyes. It had gotten dark enough now that they'd had to turn on all of the big camp lights they'd brought, but the owl could see even the parts of the forest well beyond where the light reached, although everything was in shades of brownish gray.

"I think I half-expected owl vision to be all green, like those night vision goggles they use in the military," he said.

Anna giggled.

"Is your night vision as good as an owl's?"

"It's better, actually. The only reason I can even go out in the day is because of the pendant Emily Bennett made me. All the centuries I was around before that, I had to be nocturnal like most vampires. That wouldn't work so well if we couldn't see in the dark. I use owls as spies because of the aerial view more than anything else."

Archi flew in a wide circle around the perimeter of the party site, staying roughly twenty feet above the ground. He passed a group who'd gone off into the cover of darkness to smoke weed, as well as multiple couples who'd sought the privacy of the trees to make out. At that sight, Jeremy became very aware of Anna's hands on his face, keeping him connected to Archi's senses from where they stood behind a tree much like those couples.

Anna was the most amazing girl he'd ever met, and not just because she could make him see through the eyes of hawks and owls. Before he could chicken out or think about the fact that he'd never done this before, he leaned forward. The second he moved, his connection to Archi broke and he was seeing through his own eyes again. That was good, because it made it much easier to aim when he wrapped his arms around Anna's waist, leaned the rest of the way in, and kissed her. She let out a squeak of surprise, and somewhere overhead, an owl hooted in almost the exact same tone, but then her hands moved and her arms looped around his neck as kissed him back. The sensation of literal flight through Archi or Hawkeye was nothing to the soaring feeling inside Jeremy now.

X

Only after Elena had dragged Damon a sufficient distance away from the party to avoid being overheard did she stop and round on him. "What are you doing?" she demanded in an angry whisper. "You're a vampire, with vampire reflexes! There's no way Dana knocking into Matt like that was an accident!"

"What am _I_ doing?" Damon repeated, not bothering to whisper at all. "What's _he_ doing? You dumped him and now he thinks he can get you drinks and dance with you like he's still your boyfriend?"

"What's it to you who gets me drinks and dances with me when you're planning to leave with Katherine?" said Elena, too annoyed to remember to whisper. "Matt and I dated for a few months, but he's been my friend my whole life, and that's never going to change!"

"Well, then maybe you wish you hadn't broken up with him! You certainly looked cozy at the cemetery yesterday!"

"You were _spying_ on me? What the hell? You can't use compulsion to erase yourself from my life and then be jealous of who I spend time with!"

"I told you I was on my way to undo it!"

"If you actually cared about me, then how could you do it in the first place?"

"Because you not knowing me was better than you hating me!"

"I told you that what I saw in your head wouldn't have changed anything about the way I felt!"

"THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE!"

"Er, pardon me," said a voice from a few yards away.

"WHAT?" they barked in unison. The newcomer was Enzo.

"Sorry to interrupt your polite discussion, but you're in danger of blowing the whole purpose of this evening with all the shouting."

"Stay out of it, Enzo," Damon snarled.

Enzo blurred over to stand between Damon and Elena. "I don't think so. If you want to continue this conversation, you're going to calm the hell down first."

"Enzo, it's okay," said Elena through gritted teeth. "Just because Damon's being a complete _ass_ , it doesn't mean I felt threatened." She was actually much more afraid of the possibility that the two of them would start fighting now than anything else.

"You're taking _her_ side?" said Damon indignantly.

"You think there are _sides_?" said Enzo. " _You_ don't have enough ground to stand on for it to constitute a side! Now either apologize to Elena or leave, since we've already done what we came here to do!"

Damon glowered at both of them, but the tense moment was broken by the sound of screaming.

X

A whole swarm of butterflies swirling in her stomach and a silly smile on her face, Amber Bradley allowed Jake Miller to lead her over to a slightly uneven spot on the ground just a little beyond the well-lit clearing of the party.

"Check this out," he said. "I think there's a secret room down here." He dropped her hand so that he could pry his fingers underneath the edge of what looked like a large sheet of plywood. He lifted it like it was a trapdoor, then tossed it over, revealing a set of stone steps that didn't look like they'd seen much use in at least a hundred years. A chill went down Amber's spine. She wasn't so sure about this anymore.

"Come on, let's see what's down there," said Jake eagerly.

Only the fact that the boy she'd had a crush on for over a year was asking her to could make her willing to go down those steps, but when they found a heavy door at the bottom and saw that it was ajar, the last shreds of her courage failed her. "Uh, I don't want to go in there," she said. "What if there's a wild animal or something?"

Jake rolled his eyes (though not in a mean way) and took her hand again. "Here, I'll prove that there's nothing to worry about."

She stayed as close to him as she could, and they walked inside, phones out to use as flashlights against the pitch darkness. They dimly illuminated a room with stone walls, divided in half by a row of rusty bars. "See?" said Jake. "It's just an old cellar from before the Civil War. There's nothing to be af—" He'd taken a step forward as he spoke, then tripped over something and went sprawling.

"Jake!" Amber cried. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he grumbled. "What _was_ that?"

They both shone their phones towards where he'd been standing. It took a few seconds for them to realize what they were looking at, and then they were screaming and bolting back out of the cellar as fast as they could go.

X

It had been a _long_ time since Stefan had kissed a girl like this—especially one who knew what he was. The human part of him couldn't get enough of Caroline. Her hands had slipped beneath his shirt and were leaving burning trails up his back, and his fingers now began to seek the clasp on her polka dotted bikini top.

Unfortunately, the human part wasn't the only piece of the equation. He abruptly pulled away. His cheeks throbbed from the raised veins and his vision was tinted red again.

"Hey!" said Caroline, reaching for his arm. "What's wrong?"

He turned to face her so she could see. If he'd thought the sight of his face would be explanation enough, though, he was wrong. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Is that all? Why'd you stop?"

"You're not telling me you still want to kiss me when I'm like this," he said incredulously, struggling to get himself under control.

She arched an eyebrow, then very deliberately laid a smacking kiss right on his lips. It had been so far away from what he expected that he let out a surprised laugh. Caroline Forbes, fearless and unstoppable. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her back, red eyes, veins, fangs, and all. He could do this. He could date a human. For once in his life, being a vampire didn't have to be a problem.

Entirely by accident, just when the kiss was heating up again, one of his fangs grazed her bottom lip. She let out a squeak of pain and pulled back, hand flying up to cover the tiny wound. "Oops," she giggled. "I guess I should've seen that coming. Next time, I'm choosing practicality over a romantic gesture."

Her words barely registered in his mind against the sound of her heartbeat. His vision was still veiled in red, and he couldn't take his eyes off the bleeding cut on her lip. This was what it was to be a ripper. Most vampires consumed blood. For rippers, it was the other way around. Stefan wasn't just hungry, he was hunger itself. He pressed his willing, tipsy prey against the tree again and leaned in under the pretense of kissing her neck, then sank his fangs into warm, human flesh for the first time in decades.

* * *

*dramatic chord* MOAR CLIFFHANGERS. MUAHAHAHA. I really enjoyed beginning the chapter with Stefan nearly attacking Elena and ending it with him actually attacking Caroline. Full circle! Whee! My desire to do the full circle thing is actually the reason I didn't end the chapter with Damon shoving Grayson out of the lab so he and Enzo could torture Maxfield to death, which is how you ended up with this really long chapter. I do feel bad for Caroline, but I've been waiting to write ripper Stefan for *ages*. Hopefully it was clear enough that his judgment of dangerous situations has been thrown deeply out of whack by the human blood he's been drinking. I also realized I've been doing that thing that happens a lot in Joss Whedon shows, where the angst of one couple is offset by the cuteness of another couple. So while Damon and Elena are all shouty and irrational, Jeremy and Anna are super cute and sweet. (Also, writing Damon and Elena being shouty and irrational was way more fun than I expected, especially when Enzo sided with Elena.) And I realize that the scene with Amber and Jake is practically a direct ripoff of a typical _Bones_ cold open. Not sorry.

My update goal is still the beginning of the month. Hopefully I will see you all then. I kinda think the next one will be way easier to write than this one was.


	8. The Coach in the Cellar

I should probably not assume any chapter will be easy to write before I've actually started writing it, because I think I jinxed myself by saying that. This one didn't give me the kind of trouble the last one did, where the characters wouldn't cooperate because I was foolishly trying to force them to do something uncharacteristic. No, for this one, I just had Writer's Block. And it didn't help that I randomly felt compelled to rewatch/catch up on _Game of Thrones_ , a project that consumed all of my free time for two straight weeks. So yeah, this one is a couple of weeks late, but here it is. Enjoy! (And please note the shameless _Bones_ -style chapter title, since we'll be dealing with a horrific burnt corpse.)

* * *

Bonnie had enjoyed the first hour or two of the party. She, Elena, and Caroline had a lot of fun playing water volleyball in the lake with the rest of the cheerleading squad and a bunch of guys from the football team, and when they'd had enough of that, they'd joined in with the dancing crowd, though Bonnie had stuck closer to the lake just to make sure nobody was being stupid in the water.

But then, not long after it got dark enough for the lights to go on, Bonnie started to get one of those bad feelings she couldn't shake, like when she'd been sure something awful had happened when Damon didn't show up to take Elena to the Whitmore swing ball, or when she'd touched Matt and had a vision of a werewolf standing over his sister's body.

She lost the rhythm of the dance and stared at the crowd. In one direction, she could see Caroline leading Stefan by the hand out of the clearing full of dancing people. She rolled her eyes. So much for Caroline's plan to take things slow with him. She heard a shriek from the opposite direction and spun around in alarm, but the only thing happening there was that Matt had apparently tripped and spilled beer all over Dana. Bonnie was about to disregard this when someone moved in the direction of the beer coolers, giving her a clear view of Elena dragging Damon off into the forest.

Despite the fact that she'd been determined to keep Damon away from Elena if he tried anything she didn't like, Bonnie hesitated rather than going after them. Judging from the brief glimpse she'd caught of Elena's face, she looked more furious than Bonnie had ever seen her. Elena probably didn't need help. She turned back to face the spot where Caroline and Stefan had vanished instead, and the bad feeling intensified. Allowing that feeling to guide her, she wended her way through her dancing classmates to the edge of the clearing.

Away from the party, the fireflies had started to come out. This time of year was peak firefly season in Virginia. Soon there would be thousands of them strobing among the trees. Fireflies had been magical to Bonnie since long before she knew magic was real, but she didn't allow herself a moment to enjoy them now. She kept walking until the trees had blocked out the light (though not much of the sound) of the party. The feeling in her guts tugged her slightly to one direction, and she adjusted her path.

After a few more seconds, she heard what was definitely the sound of Caroline giggling. "Oops! I guess I should've seen that coming. Next time, I'm choosing practicality over a romantic gesture."

Heat flooded into Bonnie's face. Whatever that was about didn't sound like something she wanted to interrupt. Mortification eclipsing foreboding, she turned and began to creep back in the direction of the party, hoping they wouldn't hear her.

Bonnie probably wouldn't have heard Caroline's scream if she'd been any closer to the party, because the music still pounded and people were suddenly screaming in that direction too. She doubled back and ran in the direction of Caroline's voice, nearly tripping over a tree root in her haste to find her friend in the firefly-dotted darkness.

The next tree she rounded revealed a horrific sight. Stefan had Caroline pinned against one of the larger trees in this part of the forest, and his head was bent over her neck. Bonnie couldn't see precisely what he was doing, but blood was smeared beneath Caroline's jaw, and Stefan was making grotesque slurping sounds as Caroline screamed and struggled.

It only took Bonnie a second to process all of this before she lifted one hand to clutch Emily's crystal and the other to extend towards Stefan. A rush of power shot down her arm, and she could almost feel the blood vessels beginning to pop in his brain. He immediately released Caroline with a strangled yell, his hands flying to his head. Bonnie increased the strength of the spell ruthlessly, bursting vessels far faster than he could heal them, and he fell to his knees screaming. Caroline slid to the ground, her back against the tree, both hands pressed tightly over her ravaged neck, though blood still poured between her fingers. Her skin was chalk-white where it wasn't spattered with crimson. She gasped for breaths that sounded more like sobs, and her eyes were frozen wide, staring at the writhing vampire before her.

Before Bonnie could make a single move or even formulate a thought about how to help Caroline now, a dark-haired girl appeared out of nowhere. Anna. Bonnie had met her briefly at the beginning of the party. "I heard the scream," she said. She winced as she looked at Caroline.

"Can you help her?" said Bonnie, keeping her spell trained on Stefan, whose movements and cries had grown feeble.

In reply, Anna sank her fangs into her own wrist, then bent down and held the bleeding skin to Caroline's mouth. Caroline made a faint confused noise before apparently forgetting what was so weird about the situation and sucking on the wound in earnest. Color returned to her face as she drank. Anna pulled her arm back, and Caroline peeled her own fingers away from what had been the grisly wound on her neck. It had healed, though she was still covered in blood.

"I want to go home," she said, in the smallest voice Bonnie had ever heard Caroline use. With Stefan now unconscious, Bonnie ran to Caroline and flung her arms around her. Caroline hugged her back, her body heaving with wrenching sobs.

Bonnie looked up at Anna over Caroline's shoulder. "Thank you."

Anna nodded. She cocked her head in the direction of the party, which made Bonnie notice for the first time that the music had stopped. "They're calling the police over those remains now. You should get her out of here. I'll take care of Stefan."

X

Enzo deliberately walking between Damon and Elena, the three of them headed back to the party to investigate the sounds of screaming. A couple seconds after they reached the main clearing, someone switched off the music. Many of the partiers now seemed confused and afraid.

"What's going on?" said Matt.

"We found something down in that cellar," said Amber, who was clutching Jake Miller's hand. Both of them were extremely pale and wide-eyed. "I think it was a dead body."

"Someone call the cops!"

"What are you talking about? We'll all get arrested for drinking!"

"We can't just not call the cops about a dead body!"

"We could leave and then send in an anonymous tip!"

"Too late, I'm already calling them."

"Let's get this beer out of here before they show up!"

Elena frowned. This was all going according to plan, but she'd just realized that she couldn't see Bonnie, Caroline, Stefan, Anna, or Jeremy in the crowd. With the exception of Caroline, all of them were meant to be helping make sure someone (who wasn't them) called the police. She looked over at Enzo and Damon to see if they'd noticed too, and found them both staring in the direction of the woods on the opposite side of the clearing with alarming intensity. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Before either of them could answer, someone tapped her shoulder. It was Jeremy. "Elena, I think something bad happened. Anna said she smelled blood and heard screaming all of a sudden, and she took off."

"Shit," said Damon. "Stefan." Elena barely had time to look around at him before he vanished.

"Where did he go?" said Elena, now very frightened. Had something horrible happened to one of her friends or someone else at the party? And what had Damon meant? Was Stefan in trouble, or had he _caused_ the trouble? "What's going on?"

"Come on," said Enzo. He began heading around the perimeter of the clearing while everyone in it continued to clamor over what to do about the body in the cellar.

Jeremy made to go with Elena and Enzo, but Elena put a hand on his arm. "You should stick with Tyler," she said. "Whatever happened, Anna and I can tell you about it later." He looked a little grumpy about that idea, but nodded.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" said Enzo after Jeremy had rejoined the crowd. "The work of a ripper isn't a sight a tender-hearted young lady should have to witness."

"I have to make sure Caroline's okay," said Elena. She thought about all the chances she'd had to discourage Caroline from pursuing Stefan. Chances she hadn't taken. "I knew what Stefan was and she didn't until two days ago. If he hurt her, it's my fault."

"If he _only_ hurt her, then she's a very lucky girl," said Enzo. "But it's no one's fault but his and whatever sick whim of fate made him a ripper."

X

Damon was a little surprised (and a lot relieved) to find no decapitated corpses when he reached Stefan. There was only the lingering scent of blood and Anna standing above his limp form with her arms crossed.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Stefan attacked that girl, Caroline. I got here fast, but I probably would've been too late if the Bennett girl hadn't already been knocking him out with some spell."

Damon made a mental note to send Bonnie Bennett an obnoxiously large gift basket.

"Did you know about him and Caroline?" said Anna, just as Damon bent to pick Stefan up so he could take him back to the boarding house.

"Would've been hard to miss," he said. "She wasn't being very subtle about it."

"You knew he was a ripper on human blood for the first time in decades and you _let_ him get that close to a human? I've always thought you two were idiots, but _damn_. You might as well toss a starving weasel into a henhouse."

"Back the hell off," said Damon.

"Only if you do a better job of keeping him in check from now on. It's not just his and your safety he's putting at risk anymore. It's the Gilberts and everyone else working with them too."

The wind changed, and Damon noticed for the first time that she smelled like Jeremy Gilbert. What was happening? Enzo had a date on Thursday, Stefan had been doing pretty well with Blondie until a few minutes ago, and now even the little brat was having delusions of young love with Baby Gilbert? He sneered. "You think Stefan and I are a bigger threat to them than _you_ are?"

"Any reason I shouldn't? You certainly weren't much help in 1865."

Damon's sneer became a scowl. He tossed Stefan over his back in a fireman's carry and left for the boarding house.

X

Bonnie was helping Caroline clean off at the edge of the lake, since it would've been a pretty big gamble to try to get home covered in her own blood without anyone noticing. She hadn't stopped crying yet, although the sobs were beginning to subside into sniffles.

"Caroline!" came Elena's voice from behind them. Caroline didn't react, she just continued to scrub vigorously at her neck and shoulder with lake water. Bonnie turned to see Elena approaching with a very attractive guy who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. She hadn't met him yet, but she'd seen him arrive with Damon, and Elena had told her and Caroline that he was Enzo, a good vampire whose rescue from a creepy lab was the reason Damon and Elena's parents and aunt had gone out of town Saturday evening.

Elena rushed to Caroline's side. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," said Caroline in that same tremulous voice from before. "I'm fine." She kept saying it, and Elena put a hand on her shoulder. Caroline glanced up, saw Enzo, and recoiled. "You're the other vampire," she accused.

"Just 'Enzo' is fine," he said in a husky, English-accented voice. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Neither was Stefan," said Caroline.

"Fortunately for everyone, his self-control problems are fairly uncommon."

"Just go." Caroline turned to Bonnie. "Where's Anna?"

"She's making sure Damon takes Stefan home before anything else can happen."

Enzo looked around at Elena and Bonnie. Elena gave him an apologetic look. Bonnie's expression was grimmer, but not hostile. With a slight rush of wind, Anna appeared. "Damon took Stefan home," she said, eyes on Enzo. "You should make sure things go according to plan at the party."

"My pleasure," said Enzo. "I'll see you later, Elena."

"Come on," said Elena, turning to Bonnie. "Let's get Caroline home."

X

A dozen yards away, unnoticed by any of them, a figure stood in the shadows. Anna had told him the plan had changed and that he was to lie low in case something went wrong with the new plan, but she hadn't given him details. He'd come to find out for himself, and it was a good thing he had. It seemed that Anna had allied not only with the descendants of her mother's betrayer but also the idiots who'd nearly gotten Katherine killed after all her careful planning.

He'd watched Anna use her blood to heal that fool girl after Stefan Salvatore attacked her, and he'd decided that he could teach Anna a lesson about loyalty by killing the girl. It would be amusing to watch Mystic Falls go mad when one of their precious Founding Family members became a volatile new vampire.

But before he could act on that plan, while the girl was vulnerable at the edge of the lake with only the novice witch to protect her, he'd had the biggest shock yet. Katherine Pierce herself had arrived on the scene. Except—no, that couldn't be her. Katherine had never shown that much concern for someone other than herself, and the vampire he didn't know had called her Elena.

He changed his mind. _She_ would make a far more interesting target.

X

Liz hadn't been surprised to get a call about a party out in the woods. It generally happened at least a few times every summer. What was unusual about this one was that the call wasn't about a noise complaint. It was from one of the partying teens themselves, to report a dead body. Even more unusual: the party was out at the old Lockwood estate.

She wouldn't be handing this one off to her deputies. She called Brian Walters and left the station immediately.

It took about twenty minutes to reach the site after receiving the initial call. When she got there, she found a few dozen anxious teenagers who had obviously been drinking, even though there wasn't so much as a bottle, can, or cup anywhere in sight. The two kids who'd found the body were Amber Bradley and Jake Miller. They pointed her to the cellar but refused to accompany her down into it.

Brian caught up to her in time for them to head down into the cellar together, along with one of her deputies and two of his assistants. There was a body in there, all right. It looked like some kind of small animal had partially dug it up. Brian's assistants got to work finishing the job while everyone fought hard against their gag reflexes. The more of the body was uncovered, the more the cellar smelled of putrefaction and charred, rancid meat.

The front of the body was burned black, which could make identification difficult. Almost nothing remained of the face or fingers. Liz's deputy took one look with his flashlight, then bolted, making retching noises. Any clothing the victim had been wearing had been burned away in front along with much of the flesh, but a lot of it remained on the back, where it seemed to have fused to the singed, decaying skin. Through the dirt and stains, the shirt appeared to be a maroon polo with horizontal white stripes, and the pants were khakis. What remained of the hair was black, curly, and short. Liz was guessing male, and she estimated him to be about 6'1" and close to two hundred pounds.

She made note of all of this on her pad, then turned her flashlight on the rest of the cellar while Brian continued his work. The body was buried just a few feet from the door, but the underground room was actually fairly large, divided in two by thick iron bars. She walked through the open door to this cell. On the walls inside it, her flashlight briefly illuminated something that gave her pause. She aimed it at the spot again and stepped closer. A chill ran up her spine. Claw marks. Deep ones. She shone the light around. They were everywhere, and they didn't look fresh. Maybe Richard Lockwood wasn't the first werewolf in the family. They needed to get to the bottom of this, fast.

"Find anything interesting over there?" said Brian.

Liz jumped, but played it cool. "Not another body, if that's what you were hoping for." She walked back over to him and his team, who were now unrolling a body bag. "When do you think this guy died?"

"Probably no more than a few days ago."

"Cause of death?"

Brian bent down and gingerly examined one of the burnt hands with his gloved fingers. "Considering that the palms are burned worse than the backs of the hands...I'd say it was the fire."

"Oh, _God_ ," said Liz, who had been expecting him to discover some sign that the body had been mauled to death by something with claws like the ones that made those grooves in the wall, _then_ burned in an effort to disguise it. She steeled herself against mental images of what this man must have suffered in his final moments.

It went against her law enforcement training to make any assumptions before the evidence was in, but she was almost positive that this was Richard's doing, whether he'd been on two legs or four when he did it. They were on his land, in a cellar that few people outside the family likely knew about, he was a werewolf, and he'd already killed one person. She'd been hoping for enough evidence on the Vicki Donovan case to get a search warrant (or, even better, an arrest warrant), but a second body was not what she'd had in mind. "Get him to your lab," she said, "I'll take statements and open a homicide investigation back at the station."

She went back up the stairs and ducked under the crime tape someone had put up. Before returning to the clearing where all the kids were still standing around, she pointed her flashlight on the overturned plywood. It didn't show any signs of bowing or weather damage, even though it had rained just over a week ago. Whoever had put it there had done so recently.

She headed back to the clearing. "If one of my deputies has already taken down your name and phone number, you can go home," she called loudly. "You might get a call in the next few days, and if you think you have any important information for us, you can of course call us or come to the station. Thank you for your cooperation." She turned to face the three teenagers who were most likely to have information: the couple who'd found the body, and Tyler Lockwood. "As for you three, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

They nodded. Matt Donovan and Jeremy Gilbert were skulking near Tyler, but he shot them both looks and they left with everyone else.

"Jake, Amber, can you describe how you found the remains?"

"We, uh, we were looking for somewhere, you know, kinda private," said Jake, his face going red. "And I found that cellar—"

"You found it?" said Liz.

"I sorta tripped on it," said Jake. "It was covered with dirt and leaves at first. I lifted it up and saw the stone stairs under it. I thought Amber would think it was cool."

"So you brought her over to the cellar, and then what?"

"I had a bad feeling about the cellar from the start," said Amber. "When we got inside, Jake tried to prove it was okay, and that's when he tripped over the...the remains. As soon as we saw what was there, we ran back out."

"And the only things either of you touched were the plywood and the handle of the door down there?"

They nodded.

"The door was open when we went down just now. Was it open when you first found it?"

Amber looked at Jake, who frowned. "It was open a few inches, maybe."

"Okay," said Liz. "Thank you for doing the right thing and informing the police. You can go home. Same deal as with everyone else, though. We might give you a call if we have any other questions."

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison before walking off in the direction of the dirt road where everyone had parked.

Liz turned to Tyler. "You're the one who threw this party?"

"Yeah," he said, hands in pockets.

"What made you choose this location?"

"Dad brought me out here to go camping last week. I knew we had property out in the woods, but I'd never been to it before. He said he used to party here with his friends when he was in high school, so I thought I'd do the same."

"Did you know about the cellar?"

"Yeah," said Tyler. "Dad showed it to me. We were actually going to spend the night down there instead of sleeping in a tent, but after he told me that's where our ancestors used to lock up slaves, I didn't want to be there anymore and I had Mom come pick me up."

"Are you the one who covered the entrance with plywood, so that people wouldn't go down there during the party? It looks pretty new."

"No. And it wasn't there last week."

Liz watched Tyler's expression carefully as he answered her questions. Something had prompted him to come in to the station to make a statement about Vicki Donovan's death on Saturday, almost two weeks after the fact. A statement that had strongly implicated his own father. She suspected he knew a lot more than he was saying, but she also believed he wanted her to discover the truth. Did he know his father was a werewolf? Did he know who that body had belonged to and how he had died? He was in an incredibly difficult position, and Liz wasn't going to make things harder for him by demanding further answers before he was ready to give them. Hopefully the evidence would do that anyway.

"Thank you, Tyler. I'm not thrilled that you threw an unsupervised party out in the woods, and I'm almost positive there was alcohol here, but I'm very grateful for your help in both of my investigations."

"I'm happy to cooperate however I can, Sheriff," said Tyler.

X

Damon poured a glass of bourbon and downed it in one go. The front door swung open behind him. It was Enzo.

"Where's Stefan?"

"I tossed him in the cellar."

"How long are you going to keep him there?"

"That's up to him." Damon poured another glass and slid it to Enzo. "When he wakes up, he's going to be convinced he's the most evil creature on Earth. That's a given. If he decides he likes it that way, he's staying in that cellar for a long time, and I'm going to have to have a very unpleasant phone call. If he's a ball of miserable angst over it, then he gets to start ripper rehab tomorrow, whether he likes it or not. Wanna help with that?"

"Ripper rehab?"

"Supervised nonfatal hunting. Two against one ensures the nonfatal part."

"Ah. How likely do you think it is we'll be doing that?"

"Depends how much he liked Caroline when he bit her."

X

"Thanks for the ride, Matt," said Jeremy, climbing out of the truck.

"Sure, no problem," said Matt. "Hey, do you know how Elena was planning to get home? I didn't see her after Jake and Amber found that body."

"She, Caroline, and Bonnie left the party early," said Jeremy. "She texted me to make sure I could get a ride home without her. She might not even know there was a body yet."

"Oh, okay," said Matt. "See you later."

"See you." Jeremy shut the door, and Matt drove off. When Jeremy turned to face the house, he wasn't very surprised to find Anna sitting on the porch swing, even though she definitely hadn't been there a second ago.

"Hey," he said, a bit of a grin on his face as he walked up to the porch, replaying their kiss in his mind. Surely she wouldn't look this relaxed if whatever she'd run off to deal with had ended too horribly, so he could spend a minute or two focusing on the good parts of the evening.

"Hey back," she said, getting to her feet and stuffing her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. She was grinning too. "So, as much as I'd like to talk about that slick move you pulled in the woods, I think it's time for our debriefing with HQ."

Jeremy's grin widened. "Is this you admitting you love the spy stuff as much as I do?"

"Maybe."

He laughed and went to open the door, but she stepped in front of him and pulled his face to hers for another kiss, which he was perfectly happy to accept. "I'm really glad you were crazy enough to try bringing me onto the team," she said when she pulled away.

"Me too," he agreed. He briefly returned the kiss. "I'll be right back."

Feeling elated, he went inside. "Hey, I'm home!"

His dad popped his head through the doorway to the kitchen. "How did everything go?"

"The plan worked. Sheriff Forbes has Coach Tanner's body. There's crime scene tape and everything. She sent everyone home except the two kids who found him and Tyler, but Tyler said he'd text me about it later."

Grayson smiled approvingly. "Good work."

"Something else happened, though," said Jeremy, grimacing.

"What?" said Miranda, stepping out into the hallway from behind Grayson. "What's wrong? Where's your sister?"

"She's fine, I talked to her before I left," said Jeremy quickly. "Whatever happened, it was before that. Anna's outside. She was going to tell us about it."

Miranda relaxed to hear that Elena was okay, then brightened noticeably when he mentioned Anna. "Anna's here? Oh, good! I was hoping to see her again."

" _Mom_ ," said Jeremy, rolling his eyes. "Don't be embarrassing."

"Don't talk to your mother that way," said Grayson in an amused tone, while Miranda strolled past Jeremy to the door and pulled it open. Anna was standing on the doormat, hands in pockets again.

"Hi, Mrs. Gilbert, Dr. Gilbert," she said.

"Anna," said Miranda warmly, "won't you come inside?"

Jeremy's mouth fell open. Anna exchanged startled glances with him, but she recovered from the shock faster. "Th-thank you," she stammered, stepping over the threshold.

"Oh, don't thank me," said Miranda, moving aside so Anna could enter, then shutting the door behind her. "All my cards on the table? I'm just buttering you up so you'll let me interview you about all the history you've lived through. You're the best primary source I've ever met."

Anna laughed. "I think I can do that."

"Hey, don't get sidetracked!" Jeremy protested.

"Let's go in the living room," said Grayson.

They did so, and Jeremy was amused to see Jenna there, snoring lightly under a thick psychology textbook. Miranda woke her up by running a finger up the sole of her foot. She let out a shriek and pulled all her limbs protectively towards herself like a turtle retreating into its shell. "What was that for?"

Everyone sat down, Anna and Jeremy on the loveseat and Miranda and Grayson next to a still-grumpy Jenna on the couch.

"Like Jeremy said," Anna began, "the plan worked. The Sheriff now has some seriously incriminating evidence against Mayor Lockwood, without any of us being connected to the case. But Stefan lost control and attacked Caroline."

Miranda's hand shot up to her mouth, and Jenna let out a horrified gasp. Jeremy felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of icy water on him.

"Is she—" said Grayson.

"It was pretty bad, but she's still alive," said Anna. "Bonnie got there in time to incapacitate Stefan with magic, and I used my blood to heal her. I think Elena and Bonnie planned on spending the night with her."

"Where's Stefan now?" said Jeremy, watching his dad lean back on the couch, running both hands hard over his face.

"Damon carried him back to the boarding house. He was still unconscious."

X

Stefan awoke to a splitting headache, though that faded after a few moments. He sat up and looked around. He was in the cellar of the boarding house—specifically, the same room where he'd locked Damon.

The door swung open with a squeal and Damon strode in, tossing something at Stefan's feet. A blood bag. "Drink up! That was one doozy of a spell."

"Get that away from me," Stefan snarled.

"No," said Damon. "You're going to drink it, and tomorrow, Enzo and I are going to take you hunting."

"Are you _insane_?" said Stefan, getting to his feet.

"Nope!" said Damon. "But you are, if you think I'm letting you go back to living off bunnies."

Stefan groaned. "If this is about Dr. Gilbert's treatments, just see if Anna or Enzo have a compatible blood type. You might not even need me."

"Do you think I _like_ taking my little brother's blood to stay alive? That's not what this is about! I'm enjoying not dying of werewolf toxin, but the only thing I ever liked about _your_ involvement was that it was a convenient way to motivate you to work through your issues, since you're too much of a martyr to ever do anything for your own sake."

"My 'issues' have gotten thousands of people killed! That's not something you just _work through_."

"Which you would know because you've tried it...when?"

"Lexi—" Stefan began hotly, but Damon cut him off with a contemptuous sneer.

"All Lexi has ever done is help you get better at lying to yourself about what you are. You're not a human. You're not a high school student. You're not built to live off animal blood. How the hell are you supposed to ever be good at being a vampire if you won't even accept it?"

" _Caroline_ accepted it!" Stefan shouted, getting right in Damon's face. "She's only known the truth about me for _two days_ , and when she saw me vamped out tonight, you know what she did? She kissed me! Fangs and all. But the second she started bleeding, it didn't matter anymore how much I like her or how amazingly fearless she was. All I could see was a meal, and I would've taken her head off if Bonnie hadn't gotten to us in time. You can't _fix_ me, Damon. So tell me, what's the point of being honest with myself when all the truth does is make me wish I'd stayed dead in 1865?"

Damon stared at him for a long time, brow furrowed and jaw muscles flexing. Then he bent down, picked up the blood bag, and pressed it into Stefan's chest. "Drink it. We're taking you hunting tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. _Every day_ , until you can be surrounded by bleeding humans without so much as a ripple of veins under your eyes. You do _not_ get to give up without trying."

Stefan's outrage was too incoherent for him to form a retort before Damon had stalked back out of the room and slammed the door behind him. By the time he heard Damon's footsteps on the stairs to the main floor, he was already tearing his way through the blood bag, and he didn't think he'd ever hated himself more.

X

Tuesday, July 14

"Liz," said Richard Lockwood, taking a seat across from her desk. It was barely after nine o'clock, but Liz hadn't wasted any time calling him in to the station. "What's this all about?"

"Last night, a body was discovered in the cellar of the old Lockwood estate," she said.

Richard's eyes widened, then narrowed in apparent confusion. "A body? But nobody's been out there in years."

"Apart from when you and your son went camping there last week?"

For the briefest instant that she would've missed if she'd blinked, his lip began to curl, but then it smoothed into a smile. "Of course. And I saw no sign of any dead body then."

"What about when you returned to place plywood over the cellar's entrance?" said Liz. "Tyler assured me it wasn't there during your camping trip."

"I didn't want any wild animals making nests down there," said Richard. He seemed to be growing more tense with every word.

"You didn't think the door was enough to keep animals out? It seemed solid enough to me."

At this, his eyes unmistakably flashed golden in a way no human eyes could. Only her years of experience in law enforcement and her prior knowledge of what he was kept Liz from leaping out of her chair and drawing her sidearm. "I am the mayor of this town and the head of the Founders' Council. How I look after my own property is none of your business."

"It is when I find the corpse of a man who was burned alive on it," said Liz coolly. "That'll be all, Mayor Lockwood, but I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

X

The sleepover at Caroline's house had consisted of lots of crying and hugging, and then a surprising amount of actual sleep, the two times Caroline had woken up screaming notwithstanding. Both Elena and Bonnie were perfectly willing to stay with her the entire day if she needed them, but around nine in the morning, Caroline insisted that she just needed a long shower and a good hard cheerleading practice. Things needed to be normal enough that her mom wouldn't get suspicious. So they both went home.

By the time Elena walked into the house, her dad had already left for the clinic, but her mom, aunt, and brother were all eating breakfast in the kitchen. "Hey, Elena," said Miranda. "Are you hungry? We're having pancakes."

"Thanks," said Elena, grabbing a plate. She piled four pancakes on it and drowned them in butter and syrup.

"So how's Caroline?" said Jenna after Elena sat down.

Elena shot Jenna and her mom a quizzical look while she chewed her first bite of pancake.

"Anna came over and told us what happened," said Miranda. "Is she okay?"

"She had a rough night," said Elena, "but she insisted on doing cheer practice today. I don't think she's really as okay as she's forcing herself to seem, but, eventually…." She trailed off with a shrug. She didn't want to bring up Stefan in case her family hadn't already made plans for what to do about him, so she changed the subject. "What about Coach Tanner's body?

"The plan worked," said Jeremy. "Sheriff Forbes and the medical examiner's team roped the cellar off with crime scene tape and everything, and Tyler texted me after he got home. He said he'd like to see his dad try and get out of this now."

"I still can't believe what that man did to him," said Miranda. "To condemn his own son to be a werewolf for the rest of his life? How could he possibly justify that to himself?"

"Maybe he sees it as an advantage," said Jenna. "He didn't exactly waste time using his new wolf abilities to attack Grayson. And he probably expected Tyler to just fall in line."

X

Tyler had known from the moment he first told Jeremy and Anna about his plan for getting Coach Tanner's body found that he was going to have to face his father's wrath for it at some point. Despite this, he fell asleep almost the second his head hit his pillow and woke up feeling more rested than he had since he didn't know when. After that, he surprised his mom by greeting her in the breakfast room with a kiss on the cheek and an offer to help her with her errands. She gratefully took him up on that, so he spent the next couple of hours bouncing around town collecting items his mom had lent out for various dinner parties, delivering notices and invitations for committee events, and dropping off dry-cleaning.

He pulled into the driveway at home feeling remarkably peaceful and relaxed, but he knew his grace period was over before the garage door had even finished rising. His dad was waiting for him. Part of him wanted to put his car in reverse and then keep driving until he had crossed a few state lines, but he ignored that part and pulled into his spot. His dad walked right over to his door, depriving him of so much as the opportunity to position the car between them when he got out.

"Get out of the car, right now," said Richard, leaning menacingly close so that his breath fogged part of the window.

"What does it look like I'm trying to do?" said Tyler, removing the keys from the ignition and opening the door so abruptly that his dad had to leap back. He retaliated by slamming the door shut when Tyler was barely clear of it.

"You threw a _party_ on the ground where the old Lockwood mansion stood?"

"So?" said Tyler. "You said that's what you did when you were my age. Why shouldn't I?"

"Because the Sheriff is calling me into her office like I'm at _her_ disposal instead of the other way around, and our family heritage is covered in crime scene tape!"

"Yeah, that's what happens in places where there was a _crime_ , Dad."

"If you'd read that journal like I told you to, you would've known why no one outside the family should've been out there!"

Tyler looked him dead in the eye. "I did read it. Cover to cover. On Friday."

Richard clearly hadn't expected that. "And you pretended you hadn't?" he demanded.

"What were you expecting me to say?" said Tyler. "'Thanks for not telling me about the family curse before tricking me into killing someone so I'd become a werewolf'? Go to hell."

Richard's eyes flashed and he seized fistfuls of Tyler's shirt. "You think you can turn on me, boy? It won't do you any good. There's no taking it back. I'm the only one you've got now!"

"Then I'd rather be alone," said Tyler, shoving him away hard enough to send him staggering back a few steps. "You know, you did do me one favor by making me a werewolf. I'm not a little boy you can bully anymore. Have fun talking your way out of two murder charges."

Tyler made to stride past his dad into the house, but he grabbed him by the arm and jerked him back to face him. "Where do you think you're going? You think you get to stay under my roof after this?"

A cold feeling doused Tyler's insides, but he remained defiant. "Fine. I don't want to live under your roof anyway." He yanked his arm out of his dad's grip. "Am I banned from going inside to take Mom the stuff she sent me to get?"

"Leave it here and get out."

X

Considering what had happened the last time Elena went to the boarding house, part of her felt like going back was insane. But she raised her hand to knock anyway. She still couldn't help blaming herself for this whole mess because she hadn't done anything to stop Caroline from dating Stefan when he was just barely back on human blood, so she was going to do whatever she could to make sure they were both alright.

Somewhat to her dismay, it was Damon who opened the door. Neither of them spoke, and tension seemed to settle in the space between them like a noxious cloud. "What are you doing here?" he said eventually.

"I'm going to go visit my dad's clinic next," said Elena, fidgeting with the strap of her purse, which she hadn't really needed to bring with her from her car. "I want to be able to tell him that nothing needs to change with the deal you guys have. Is that something I can say?"

"Stefan didn't kill anyone, so he hasn't violated the terms," said Damon. "Why? Do you think the Doc would do something preemptive?"

"No," said Elena. "I just want to make sure everyone's on the same page. At least, about _that_."

"Oh yeah?" he said. "And where exactly are we not on the same page? We both know you're furious with me, and we both know I deserve it."

She felt like he'd slapped her. Was he just going to give up, then? "That's not where it ends!" she said. "But apparently I'm the only one who doesn't want to keep things that way, because instead of trying to fix it, you're fine with just being the bad guy and antagonizing my friend!"

"You think making your ex spill beer on some girl was me being the bad guy?" he said with a nasty laugh. "You haven't _seen_ me be the bad guy."

"Yeah, I have," said Elena hotly, thinking of some of the memories she'd witnessed.

" _No_ , you really haven't," he said, all traces of laughter gone.

That brought her up short. She folded her arms tightly over her chest. "Just tell me how Stefan's doing, okay?"

"Well, he's broody and miserable, which means he's doing great."

She scowled. "Can you be serious for one second?"

"I am being serious. Right now, the options are miserable and broody or bloodthirsty and murderous. Which one sounds better to you?"

Her stomach twisted. "So he'll be okay?"

"Not yet, but he'll be closer to it after Enzo and I take him on a hunt."

"Wait, you're taking him hunting, as in, for _people_ , right after he almost killed Caroline?!" Elena was so appalled that it was difficult to get the words out.

"It's what he _needs_ , Elena," said Damon, eyes flashing and voice growing louder. "He almost killed Caroline because he's always hidden from his bloodlust instead of learning how to control it. The only way to learn control is to practice. Hunting _people_ is _practice_."

"But what if he kills someone?" She couldn't believe this.

"That's what Enzo and I will be there to stop," he said. "Now, run along and tell daddy all of Damon's evil plans. I've got a hunt I don't actually get to participate in to prepare for." And he shut the door in her face.

X

Matt walked into the Grill, head low and hands in pockets. He'd enjoyed Tyler's party, except for the part where he'd spilled beer all over Dana and didn't get a chance to dance with Elena. Today had been less enjoyable so far. The sign about practice being cancelled on Friday was still up on the locker room door, and nobody had been able to get in touch with Coach Tanner. Matt had decided to do something about it, so he'd gone to see Sheriff Forbes and told her he thought his coach might be missing.

After that, there wasn't much else he could do, which was why he was hoping to kill time before his afternoon lifeguard shift by getting food and playing some pool. He headed for his usual booth, and found Tyler already sitting there alone, looking like he wasn't in a very good mood either, judging from the way he wasn't touching the burger and fries in front of him.

"Hey," said Matt.

Tyler looked up. "Oh. Hey, man."

"What's up?" said Matt, sliding into the booth across from him and stealing a few of his fries.

"Nothing," said Tyler. "Except that my dad kicked me out."

"What, for throwing that party?" said Matt, a fry halfway to his mouth, his own troubles forgotten. "You've thrown plenty of parties, and he's never done that."

"It doesn't matter. I don't want to live with that asshole anyway. I wish I could get Mom out too."

"Need a place to stay until you figure something out?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on, Ty, where else are you going to go? Just because you've been weird for the last couple of weeks doesn't mean I'm not gonna help you out."

"You wanna know why I've been weird?" said Tyler. "I was the second-to-last person to see Vicki alive."

Matt froze. "What?" He watched Tyler grit his teeth, his eyes darting all over the restaurant.

"She and I had been going out on and off for a few months," he said finally. The admission looked painful. Matt didn't care.

"Why didn't you tell me? She's my sister! You're my best friend!"

"We didn't think you'd like it."

"You know what I didn't like more?" said Matt, furious. "Not knowing where she was and who she was with the night she was killed by some wild animal!" Tyler finally met Matt's eyes again. His expression sent a jolt of foreboding through him, and something he'd said earlier suddenly clicked. "Wait, you were the second-to-last person to see her alive? Who was the last?"

"We were having fun together, and then my dad found us. He yelled at me and made me go home, and he said he was going to give Vicki a ride."

Matt frowned. The foreboding was only getting stronger. "But...how could a wild animal have attacked her if she was in your dad's car?"

Tyler looked miserable. "There wasn't a wild animal, Matt. I found Vicki's phone in my dad's desk the next day."

Matt's breaths were coming in short bursts. He felt like the floor and booth had fallen out from under him. "Why would Sheriff Forbes lie to us about what happened to her?"

"No idea," said Tyler. "Maybe she just didn't want you and your mom to worry about some killer running loose until they had a suspect. But I've told her everything I know, and I swear to you that he's not going to get away with this."

Matt stared at his best friend. He felt empty. "What about the body they found at the party? Was that him too? Is that why he kicked you out, because it got found?"

"Yeah."

"What the hell, man? Is your dad a serial killer or something?"

"No," said Tyler. "He's just a monster."

X

Elena was still seething when Laura sent her to the clinic's break room to find her dad. He looked up from his half-eaten lunch as she entered. "Hi, Elena. How's Caroline doing?"

"She's fine. Physically, anyway. Thanks to Bonnie and Anna." She sat down across from him rather heavily.

"What's bothering you?" he asked.

"I went to the boarding house to make sure Stefan's keeping it together."

"And?"

"And Damon said he wants to take him out to hunt people tonight!" she burst out.

"Hmm," said Grayson, swallowing a bite of chicken salad. "He should probably take Enzo, then. Stefan might overpower him if he's the only one with him."

Elena gaped at her dad as he continued to nonchalantly eat his lunch. "Wait, you're okay with this?"

"It was inevitable," he said. "I'd hoped they'd be able to start before any incidents like what happened last night could occur. Stefan shouldn't have been at that party."

"You really think this is the only way for him to learn control?"

"I'm not happy about it, but yes. You saw him the day we started Damon's treatment. He trusts himself so little that he was willing to be locked in the cell for the whole duration of it. He doesn't want to hurt people, but right now, that's not up to him. Continuing to do nothing to overcome his ripper tendencies at this point would be grossly irresponsible, and this is the only way forward."

"But why can't he just drink from blood bags, like he's been doing?" said Elena, deflating.

"Because that's what put him in this position. And blood bags were never a long-term solution. We were able to get him enough of them to last a few weeks because we got lucky and because we manipulated a blood drive, but hospitals need blood to save patients' lives. Vampires feeding directly but nonfatally off people is the solution with the greatest benefits for them and the fewest consequences for us."

"But—"

"Elena," said Grayson. He was smiling at her, but there was a tinge of regret in it. "I know you want there to be a way that everyone gets what they need and nobody gets hurt. You're a good girl with a tender heart. But there are no easy answers when the goal is for vampires and humans to coexist peacefully."

His words reminded Elena of the day she'd persuaded Damon to drink from her instead of going out and making a meal out of some random person. There really were no easy answers. Thinking this made her realize that she had assumed, deep down, that Damon had only come up with this dubious strategy for helping Stefan because he wanted to piss her off even more, and that assumption had played a large role in why she'd gotten so upset. She felt ashamed of herself. This, at least, had nothing to do with her.

X

Liz rapped her knuckles against the door of the apartment above the barber shop. There was no answer. She knocked harder. "Mr. Tanner? It's Liz Forbes," she called loudly. Still no answer. She went back down to the shop where Bob Fitzgerald was finishing up a haircut for a freckly boy of about eight or nine.

"Anything I can help you with, Sheriff?" he asked when he saw her approaching in the mirror.

"You and Laura own this building, correct?"

"Sure do."

"Then you're the ones renting out the apartment over the shop?"

"Yeah."

"When was the last time you saw your tenant?"

Bob set aside his clippers. "Okay, kiddo, what do you think?"

"I like it!" said the boy to his reflection. Both of his two front teeth were missing. Liz couldn't help smiling.

Bob unfastened the apron. "You were a very good customer today. Tell your dad I said hi, alright?"

"Okay!" said the boy, and he scampered off.

Bob went to get the broom to sweep up all the hair clippings. "You know, now I think about it, I don't think I've seen William yet this week." He frowned. "I definitely remember seeing him on Wednesday, because he had bloody tissues sticking out of his nose. Said one of his football players punched him, and then he went across the street to get a few drinks."

There was that creeping chill again. Tyler Lockwood had been the football player who threw that punch. Caroline had told her about it that night at dinner, and Tyler himself had admitted it when she went to talk to Carol. Liz found herself mentally comparing what she remembered of Tanner's physique with that of the remains they'd recovered, but abruptly stopped. She couldn't make that leap. What she _could_ do was call Brian and tell him to check the remains for evidence of a fresh broken nose (although the face was so badly burned that he might not be able to tell one way or the other), while she went across the street to the Grill to ask about Tanner's Wednesday afternoon.

X

Early in the afternoon, Elena got a text from Caroline: _I made it through cheer practice. Can you come over?_

Even though it was often difficult to read emotion in a text, Elena was instantly concerned. She wasted no time heading to Caroline's house. On arriving, she opened the door without knocking. "Caroline? I'm here! Are you okay?"

"I'm upstairs, Elena!"

Elena jogged up to Caroline's room. Caroline was sitting on her bed, still wearing her cheer uniform. Her cheeks were lined with fresh tear tracks, and she was hugging her knees. When she saw Elena, her lips quivered. Elena rushed forward and sat in front of her, grabbing both her hands and squeezing.

"I thought I could be okay if I made myself go through my normal routine like nothing was wrong, but I don't think I can do it again, and I can't break down because nobody but you and Bonnie can know why. If my mom so much as suspects something's wrong, it could ruin everything."

"Hey, if you're worried about your mom, you can sleep over at my house tonight. You can stay as long as you want."

"Your parents know what happened, don't they?"

"Anna told them. They're so relieved she got there in time to heal you."

Caroline let out a heavy sigh, then raised her eyes to look at Elena. "I don't want to know this, Elena. I don't want to have these memories. I've never liked a boy as much as I liked Stefan, and just when I was sure he really liked me back, he ripped my throat out. I'm going to have nightmares about that every night, I know it. It doesn't matter that Anna healed me. I'm not going to be able to stop thinking about it. It would be easier if I could be mad at him, but I know he didn't want to do that to me, so all I can do is be scared."

"Caroline…," Elena began, completely at a loss as to how to make this better.

More tears spilled from Caroline's eyes. She looked so small. "The last few days of being in the loop with you and Bonnie were amazing, but I don't think I can know any of it without needing to know all of it. I'd pick at it, convinced it couldn't be as bad as I thought. So I'm going to ask Anna to erase everything." Her chest heaved. "I'm sorry I couldn't be braver. You and Bonnie have been handling this for months, but I couldn't even make it half a week!"

"No, no," said Elena, throwing her arms around Caroline, her own vision blurring with tears. "It's okay. You don't have to be involved in any of this if you don't want to, and I don't think anyone should have to live with memories like that."

"I already told Bonnie, after practice was over, before she headed to her shift at the pool. She said the same thing."

"Do you want me to get in touch with Anna?"

"Yeah. I might as well get this over with."

X

Anna was annoyed. She wanted to keep hanging out with Jeremy so they could track the progress of the Sheriff's investigation through her animal spies together (and hopefully resume last night's kissing session), but she'd gotten an unexpected text from Noah. She strode into Mrs. Flowers' dining room, where Noah was helping himself to some casserole.

"Noah, what are you doing here?" she asked, not bothering to disguise her irritation.

"I've been here since before sunrise," said Noah. "Emily didn't make me one of those fancy amulets, remember?"

Anna gritted her teeth. "I _mean_ , what are you doing within fifty miles of Mystic Falls?"

"I got bored, Anna," he said, raising his eyebrows. "You've had me on hold for over a week."

"Yeah, and the comet is still nearly two months out, so you've got eight weeks to go. There's nothing for you to do before then! You are the backup, not the scout." Another of Katherine's dupes—one she had turned early on during their stay in Mystic Falls—, Noah would have been useful to Anna in a similar way as Damon Salvatore, except that he was nowhere near as resourceful. Privately, though, Anna now viewed him as entirely vestigial to the plan. The Gilberts had laid the last shreds of her misgivings about them to rest when they invited her into their home. Unfortunately, Noah's interest in Katherine and ignorance of her escape was going to make him difficult to get rid of, particularly because he hadn't done anything to warrant a stake through the heart.

"Fine," he said, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I await your orders."

She grimaced at him. Then her phone buzzed. It was a text from Elena. "I'll call you if there's a good reason for you to close in, but get back to the perimeter after sundown." She left without waiting for his response or reaction. Once outside, she opened the message.

 _Call me when you get this?_

Anna stuck her phone back in her pocket and took off running in the direction of Mystic Falls. She didn't want Noah eavesdropping on whatever this was about.

X

"So," said Elena after hanging up with Anna, forcing a smile onto her face. "I get my memories back, you lose yours?"

"Aren't we a pair," said Caroline with a humorless giggle. Then she sobered and seized Elena by the forearm. "You don't have to go out of your way to make sure I don't find out about all this supernatural stuff again. I trust you and Bonnie to know when it's okay for me to know, but no matter what, the last few days never happened, and I never went out with Stefan Salvatore, okay?"

"Okay," said Elena.

"And...and the next time you see him, tell him what I did," her grip on Elena's arm intensified and her eyes were bright, "but make sure he knows I don't hate him." Her voice broke on the last word.

"I promise." There was a knock downstairs. "Do you want to meet her outside or invite her in?"

"Anna, you can come in!" said Caroline after barely any hesitation.

A second later, Anna had joined them in Caroline's room. Her expression was sympathetic and a little regretful. "Are you sure about this?"

Caroline nodded.

Elena made to get up, but Caroline redoubled her grip, so she merely shifted her position to sit at Caroline's side, hand in hand with her. Anna climbed on the bed and sat crosslegged in front of Caroline in Elena's former position. For a few minutes, the three of them discussed how best to approach the memory revisions. Once Caroline was satisfied, Anna locked gazes with her, and Elena looked away. This was too much like what Damon had done to her.

"You met Stefan Salvatore," Anna began, "and you liked him, but when you tried to flirt with him at the Fourth of July party, he turned you down. He was kind of a jerk about it. So you moved on, and you haven't interacted with him at all since then. You don't remember anything he told you at the football field. If you see him around, it won't even slow you down, because he's yesterday's news…."

* * *

I've been looking forward to doing the parallelism of Elena's struggle to get her memories back and Caroline wanting her memories removed for quite a while, and now we're finally here! This pretty much means that all of Caroline's lovely character development will be reset, though, and I am sad about that. Damon is still being a big dummy, but Elena is beginning to get some distance that will be helpful later. Richard kicking Tyler out of the house wasn't part of the original plan, but it feels right, and I'm really happy with it. And now there's Noah! Fun times ahead with him. And fun times ahead for Stefan's hunting lessons with Damon and Enzo.

Okay, little announcement now. Every November is the I Will Remember You Buffy/Angel fic marathon, and I've signed up as one of the writers again this year. This could potentially delay the next chapter, but hopefully not by much. As soon as I get a couple of those fics done, this will be my priority again before working on more of them. (Also, if any of you are Buffy/Angel shippers with untapped fic ideas, you should totally participate too, because there are plenty of writer spots open, and it's always awesome to get new writers involved. Just send me a PM about that, and I'll help you find the signup page.)


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